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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29417775">Angels in the Dugout</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky'>butterflyslinky</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Little Angels [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Autism, Discussion of Homophobia, Domestic, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Self-Harm, Softball</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:07:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,456</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29417775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Single dad Dean Winchester hasn't dated at all in the 3 years since his divorce. But when new player Claire joins his daughter Emma's softball team, Dean finds himself drawn to her quiet, somewhat odd uncle Castiel.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Little Angels [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Dad!” Emma yelled from the living room. “Daaaaad!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sighed and tossed his wrench back in the toolbox before heading inside. Twelve-year-old Emma stood in the middle of the living room, looking way too excited, Jo standing just behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Emma,” Dean said. “How was practice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good!” Emma said. “Uncle Bobby said we’re the best team he’s ever had!” She was practically vibrating with excitement. “And guess what? There’s a new girl on our team!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah?” Dean asked. The Angels softball team rotated every year, with older girls moving up to high school and younger girls coming in, but Emma’s class had been pretty similar from the start. Not many people were eager to move to Sioux Falls, after all, so any new kid was a source of excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Emma said. “She moved here over Christmas from Omaha, and her name is Claire and she’s really good!” Emma beamed. “She’s gonna play first base!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds awesome,” Dean said. “It’ll be good to make a new friend.” He glanced over to Jo. “And Emma?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get to pitch this year!” Emma said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s really awesome!” Dean said, offering a fist bump. Emma rolled her eyes a bit but accepted it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bobby was really impressed,” Jo said. “All that practice paid off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll come to all my games, right?” Emma asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I will,” Dean said. “When have I ever missed one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’ll get Uncle Sam to come too,” Dean added. “He works too hard and Jack should go outside more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Aunt Ellen?” Emma beseeched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Aunt Ellen,” Jo agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Aunt Charlie,” Dean added. “And maybe Ben and Lisa if they have time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma was pleased enough by that. “Can we have hamburgers for dinner?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heck yeah, we can!” Dean agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t overdo it,” Jo said. “And Mom wants you over for dinner tomorrow night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire was fairly quiet when Cas picked her up from the softball field that evening in early February. Then again, Claire had been quiet for the last three months, ever since she had been sent to live with Cas and he had immediately moved her to Sioux Falls to avoid a nasty custody battle with all seven of his remaining siblings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he thought that moving two hundred miles north of their last home would really stop them, but it would slow them down enough for Cas to at least breathe and figure out what to do next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have a good time?” Cas asked awkwardly as they walked home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire shrugged. “They’re putting me on first base,” she said. She had been begging Cas to let her try out for softball ever since they had arrived in Sioux Falls; it was the one thing she had really loved back in Omaha, and Cas couldn’t come up with a good reason not to let her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s...good?” Cas had no idea; he hadn’t played softball since he was Claire’s age and didn’t remember much about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Claire said. “Mr. Singer said I’m pretty good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded. “Did you make any friends?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of the girls was nice, I guess,” Claire said. “The pitcher...Emma. But no one else really wanted to talk to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a start,” Cas said. “They’ll warm up to you.” He tried to believe it, though he really wasn’t sure it was true. He’d never had many friends growing up, and being the sixth of nine siblings, he’d always been surrounded by too many other people to really want to make any more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire shrugged. “I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sighed, but didn’t say anything else until they got home. Dinner was already waiting in the crockpot, and Claire didn’t even complain that Cas had done it wrong this time, so he decided to count that as a win.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean didn’t know if it was luck or just fate that ended up with him being a single dad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had, admittedly, had a very wild youth. One-night stands, drinking every night, with aspirations of being a police officer and jumping into danger any chance he got.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And all of that changed when he got a call from one of his one-night stands telling him that she’d gotten pregnant from it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean was only twenty at the time, by no means ready to be a dad, but he was ready to try. His own childhood had been fraught enough, with an alcoholic dad and a frightened little brother, and he would be damned if he put another kid through that. So Dean had set aside the idea of being a police officer, and gone to work as a mechanic with his Uncle Bobby. He stopped drinking (a hard fight), stopped sleeping around, and fully dedicated himself to supporting his daughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A year after Emma was born, her mother, Lydia, had gotten caught up in some weird doomsday cult that didn’t allow children. So Emma had been dropped off in Sioux Falls without so much as a by-your-leave, custody papers signed and sealed, and Lydia had never been heard from since. So there Dean was, the sole caretaker to this tiny baby girl, and he knew that he would do anything for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t too hard, actually. Dean had a good support system, his brother and uncle and aunt and cousin and sister. A year after Emma had been left with him, Dean had met a new woman, and married her a year after that. And then the next year, they’d had a son, Ben, and everything felt so...normal. White picket fence and two kids and everything Dean could have asked for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, it hadn’t lasted. Dean and Lisa divorced after just five years, though they remained on good terms. Ben came up every other weekend, and Dean tried to move on with his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a good life, him and Emma and sometimes Ben, with their family close by (well, the ones Dean was speaking to, anyway). Emma was growing up happy and healthy, and Dean couldn’t ask for anything more than that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas had left home as soon as he turned eighteen. He was generally looked down on for that; there was the expectation that everyone in their family stay close, be a part of their father’s perfect family and holy mission, but Cas had run as far and fast as he could and stopped answering their calls as soon as he was away. No one talked about Cas’s reasons for running away; that would mean acknowledging it was all their own damn fault</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, almost all of them. He would still pick up for Gabriel and Balthazar, and very occasionally for Anna if she caught him on a good day, and Jimmy had stayed close to him, ever the loyal twin. But the others, he wouldn’t speak to. Not after everything they’d put him through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, that was easier said than done. Raphael never stopped trying to call him home; Zachariah sent threatening emails every week. Michael went so far as tracking Cas down, even though Cas kept moving to avoid him. And Lucifer...well, the less said about Lucifer, the better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But eventually, Cas managed to shake all of the ones he didn’t want to see. He got a new phone number, changed his email address, and settled in Omaha. As soon as he turned twenty-five, he withdrew all of the money from his trust fund and put it in an untraceable bank, giving him enough to live on while he pursued his art.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still got news; Gabriel had gotten his new number, and used it to keep Cas appraised of everything happening at home. So when Anna ran off to get married and came back destitute and heartbroken, Cas knew. When Jimmy had finally managed to cut all ties, he followed Cas to Omaha and lived just a few houses away. And when Jimmy had a daughter, Cas was the first to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Claire was a lovely child, sweet and devoted to her father, faithful when she prayed, even as Cas cringed at hearing the prayers his father had forced them all to recite. Cas saw her often, and he always made clear to her that he would be kind to her, no matter what.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Jimmy and his wife, Amelia, died in a car crash. So sudden and so unexpected that Cas didn’t get the news until the next day, when a social worker had shown up on his doorstep and asked if he would be able to take Claire. And Cas had agreed at once; he knew that he was probably the best option, that having her sent back to any of his other siblings back in Chattanooga would end in tragedy for her. Even Gabriel and Balthazar, the nicest of Cas’s brothers, were too transitory to make good fathers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So now Cas had a twelve-year-old girl to look after, and he would be damned if anyone ever tried to harm her while he still lived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Harvelle house was loud, like it always was when Dean went over on Friday. Ellen liked having lots of people in her house every weekend, and it was always a joy to be there. Lisa had dropped Ben off that afternoon, so Dean went in with both his kids to a very warm sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bobby was on the couch with a bottle of beer, watching the football game. He lifted the bottle to Dean as he walked in. “Evening, kids,” Bobby called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Uncle Bobby!” Emma and Ben chorused, zooming over to sit next to him and presumably talk his ear off. Bobby didn’t mind; he loved Dean’s kids, and Dean himself, and he was always glad to hear whatever they wanted to tell him. Ben was doing most of the talking tonight, telling Bobby about a girl he liked, and Bobby nodded along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jody Mills sat next to Bobby, still looking a little unsure of her place here but listening to the kids closely. She and Bobby had only been dating for a few months; Dean didn’t blame her for being a bit cautious. They could be a lot and Jody had been alone for several years now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam was in the kitchen, helping Ellen and Jo with dinner. His adopted son Jack sat at the table, sipping a juice box and watching the chaos quietly. Dean’s heart broke all over again seeing that. Sam had adopted Jack six months before, and the boy was still very shy, even among family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need any more help, Ellen?” Dean called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I get anyone else in this kitchen, he’s gonna get an asswhooping,” Ellen said. “You sit down, you’ve been working all day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean laughed and grabbed a soda before he took a seat in the living room. Ben and Emma were both talking at once now, vying for Bobby’s attention, and Bobby was amazingly able to handle both conversations at once. Dean shook his head; he had never understood how Bobby managed to hold so much information in his head at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jody shook her head at Dean. “They like this at your house?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really,” Dean said. “I’m not nearly as interesting as Bobby.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were interrupted by the door opening and Charlie coming in, a bit out of breath. “Sorry,” she said. “I know I’m almost late but there was a server pinging out in Montreal and I had to look into it to make sure it wasn’t something I was running and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit down, girl,” Bobby cut in. “You’re not late and none of us know what the hell you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Charlie said, taking the last open seat. “Right, sorry, I just didn’t want to interrupt anything or make you wait for me or…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aunt Charlie!” Emma interrupted. “I’m pitching this year!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, awesome!” Charlie said, immediately distracted from her babbling. Emma turned her attention to telling Charlie everything about softball while Ben kept talking at Bobby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean settled back in his chair, warm and happy, surrounded by a family who truly loved him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas knew he wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he still did his best. Organic ingredients, lots of vegetables, and he limited takeout to once a week whenever he could. He tended to go for very mild things, nothing too textured, though he was trying to vary it up now that he wasn’t just cooking for himself, with limited success.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire usually wasn’t impressed by his efforts, but she would finish her meal dutifully. Jimmy hadn’t been able to let go of their father’s teachings as easily as Cas did, and one of the things he had passed onto Claire was the idea that she should be grateful and finish everything put in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Friday nights were the ones where Cas allowed Claire to choose a takeout meal. Not that there were a lot of options in Sioux Falls--at least, not options that Cas could stand to eat--but there were a good few they cycled through regularly. Tonight, Claire had opted to order Chinese (cheap, inauthentic, but healthier than eating pizza every week) and Cas was honestly glad to have the time free to finish his latest sculpture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is that?” Claire asked, squinting at the glass and plaster structure on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is the feeling of watching a honeybee fly among flowers,” Cas answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire stared at it more, then walked around, obviously baffled. She was usually baffled by Cas’s art pieces. Most people were. Cas knew he had gotten better responses to them in Omaha, where people were a little more artsy (and where, before having Claire around, he’d had more access to certain substances that made his art easier), but he couldn’t stop making art. Even if no one in Sioux Falls appreciated his work, he could always ship it back to Omaha or out to New York or California or anywhere it might be understood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire seemed to give up on it after a few minutes. She sat back down on the couch with her Switch and was soon engrossed in her game. Cas thought about telling her to do her homework, but decided against it. Claire’s marks were good and he didn’t want to nag her too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doorbell rang just a few minutes later. Cas frowned; food delivery usually took longer. He got up to answer, wondering if it was something else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It turned out he was right. Meg Masters was on the other side of the door, several grocery bags in hand. “Hey,” she said, shouldering past Cas to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meg?” Cas asked, stunned. Meg was his ex-girlfriend from college. His only girlfriend, in fact, before he was able to admit that he was gay. Meg had been shockingly understanding of the whole thing, and had remained Cas’s best friend. But he hadn’t told her where he was going when he left Omaha, so her showing up now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Meg asked as she started putting things away. “You didn’t think I’d figure out where you went? Or that I’d follow you as soon as the Asshole Garrison left?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sighed, but couldn’t object. Meg was good to him, and he had missed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire looked up from her game briefly, then went back to it. She didn’t know Meg very well, and while Cas knew Meg had a heart of gold, she could be very intimidating on first glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Claire,” Meg said. Claire half-waved, but Meg didn’t seem to care, just kept pulling things out of her grocery bags.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looked at the food in disgust. “What is all that?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stuff kids actually like,” Meg said. “I figured you’d be feeding her your flavorless healthy crap and that’s no way to live.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not all healthy,” Cas said. “And it’s none of your business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re just little treats for now and then,” Meg insisted. She gave Cas a pointed look and added quietly, “Let her be a kid, Cas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Cas protested, but he made no move to stop her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or you would, if you knew what being a kid meant.” Meg finished unpacking and took a seat at the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sighed. “I guess it’s good I ordered more food than we need,” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already ate,” Meg said. “Don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas hid a smile. He knew Meg would be here all evening, if not longer, and he was secretly pleased. He didn’t need a big family, didn’t need anyone, really, but having Claire and Meg here…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was nice.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean didn’t have to pick Emma up from softball practice too often; he lived so close to his family that Jo or Bobby would usually bring her home. But today, Jo had a date right after practice and Bobby had gotten an urgent call about a very high-profile customer’s car, so Dean walked down to the field himself, thinking he might take Emma to a movie later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Practice wasn’t quite finished when Dean arrived. He stood idly by the fence, watching the girls play and trying not to look too much like a creep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d only been there a few minutes when he spotted another man walking toward the field. Dean frowned; Sioux Falls was a reasonably sized city, but Dean knew just about everyone on the softball team and their parents and he didn’t know this guy. Furthermore, this man was wearing a trenchcoat, which usually set off Dean’s creeper meter, though it was at least open. Dean walked over toward him; if this guy was a creep, Dean was pretty good in a fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Dean said as he reached the other man. He noted that, creep or not, the guy was pretty hot. Dark hair, a very kind face belied by two days of stubble and dark circles under his eyes. Poor guy looked exhausted more than creepy up close, but Dean wasn’t taking chances with his daughter’s safety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy jumped. “Hello,” he said. His voice was low and raspy and sent shivers down Dean’s spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean offered his hand. “Dean Winchester,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man blinked, but shook his hand. “Castiel Novak,” he said. He looked very cautious, maybe a little scared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You new in town?” Dean asked. He couldn’t place the name anywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Castiel said. “I just arrived over Christmas.” He looked back at the field, looking a little bit anxious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean glanced out as well. “Picking up your kid?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Castiel said. He nodded toward first base. “Claire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah. So this was the new girl’s dad. That explained things. “Same,” Dean said, indicating Emma. “Emma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel nodded in acknowledgement, but didn’t seem very eager to keep talking. Dean debated coming up with some other topic of conversation, but couldn’t find anything and didn’t want to push. Castiel clearly wasn’t very eager to talk to anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, practice ended a few minutes later. As soon as Emma had put away her equipment, she was running over to Dean. Claire followed a few feet behind, clearly not nearly as energized as Emma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad!” Emma said. “Did you see that pitch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did,” Dean said. “It was great, Sassy Spice.” He reached down and ruffled Emma’s hair, earning a squawk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel managed a smile at Claire as she arrived. “How was practice?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Claire said. She didn’t seem any more eager to talk than Castiel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you tomorrow, Claire!” Emma said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice meeting you,” Dean said to Castiel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel nodded and headed off. Claire sort of waved at Emma as she followed. Dean couldn’t tell if Castiel was anxious or just not very friendly, but he almost hoped it was the former. If Castiel was in any way friendly, Dean would love to know about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Claire always that quiet?” Dean asked as he and Emma headed off in the other direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Emma said. “I think she’s nervous about new people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her dad seems pretty shy,” Dean observed. “Might just be a family thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” Emma shrugged, clearly disinterested. “What’s for dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leftover pot roast,” Dean said. “Aunt Ellen sent it over...and then we can go see a movie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean listened to Emma chatter away about her teammates the rest of the way home, but his mind was still on Castiel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas managed not to have a panic attack until he and Claire were safely back home. He sent Claire upstairs to do her homework and fled into the kitchen. Not that he needed to do anything--the chili in the crockpot was perfectly fine and didn’t require interference--but he needed a safe spot to lean on a counter and take deep breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because Dean Winchester was probably the most attractive man Cas had ever met. He wasn’t very tall, but he was muscular, with very bright eyes and very pouty lips and a demeanor of so much confidence that Cas couldn’t stand it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he couldn’t do anything about it. Dean was picking up his daughter, so he was probably straight, and Cas knew what happened when straight men felt like their masculinity was threatened. He could already hear Dean spitting slurs at him, already feel the punch that would surely follow if Cas so much as hinted attraction. And then Cas and Claire would both be ostracized from the community, forced to run again before anyone in Chattanooga caught wind of where they were. If anyone so much as found out Cas was attracted to a man, he could lose Claire, and she’d be sent back to Tennessee, to live with Raphael or Michael or even…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas gripped the counter tighter. No. He wouldn’t let it happen. He would stomp down the attraction, pretend to be straight like he always had at home, not let anyone so much as guess that Cas wasn’t a good, normal, upstanding citizen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas had just managed to get his breathing under control when Meg walked in. He hadn’t exactly invited her to move in, but she hadn’t really gone away since tracking him down, and Cas was honestly grateful. Meg had found a good job as a nurse almost immediately, and while Cas didn’t need money, having her contributing to the household would make things easier with the courts if anything happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plus, having an attractive woman living in the house would make it easier to maintain the facade that Cas was straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” Meg asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Cas said. “Yeah...I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg obviously didn’t believe him. “Did one of the Asshole Garrison try to call you again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Cas said. “No, nothing like that.” He sighed. “There was just a really hot dad at the field when I went to get Claire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Meg blinked a bit. “And that constituted you crying over the crockpot why…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas wiped at his eyes. He hadn’t even realized he’d started crying. “Cause I can’t have any thoughts like that,” he said. “Claire would be taken from me, I’d be run out of town…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg rolled her eyes. “Cas. It’s the twenty-first century, not the nineteenth. No one is going to take Claire away from you on that basis alone. She’s well-fed, she has a stable house, you have enough money to support her, and she goes to school and gets good grades. No one’s called CPS to say she’s being mistreated. No one has any legal basis to take her away from you, and if they try, they’ll have to go through me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “You’re right,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to ask Hot Dad to get a drink sometime?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I don’t have time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have plenty of time, you work from home and it’s freelance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s probably straight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never know.” Meg grinned at him, red lipstick very shiny today. “Come on, Cas, you need to put yourself out there sometime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not now,” Cas said. “It’s only been three months and I’ve already uprooted Claire’s life enough. I don’t need to introduce any more complications.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg shrugged, but Cas knew her mind was turning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, let it turn. Cas wasn’t going to do anything. Not now. Not until Claire was ready, and she certainly wasn’t ready yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or at least...Cas wasn’t ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean spent the next week trying to come up with excuses to pick Emma up from softball practice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Bobby and Jo were so aware of Dean’s schedule and habits that anything he could think of seemed pretty lame. He managed a few things, from suddenly changing Emma’s dentist appointment to buying tickets to a circus show intended for much younger children, when Bobby finally pulled him aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell are you doing?” Bobby asked without preamble the fifth time Dean had unexpectedly shown up at the softball field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh...though Emma might like to go to the zoo?” Dean said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, idjit, I get wanting to spend time with your daughter, but there are times to spend with her that don’t involve you getting her from here,” Bobby snapped. “So what gives?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean tried not to look too guilty, but his eyes did slide over to Castiel. They hadn’t spoken since that first day--Castiel hadn’t been very eager and Dean didn’t want to scare him off--but Dean thought that he might be able to build up a distant relationship and get closer as time went on. Sort of like taming a feral cat. Spend time in Castiel’s presence, slowly move closer to him, get Castiel used to him, and then maybe take him out on a date, or at least home to his bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It sounded good in theory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bobby sighed in exasperation. “Just ask him to get coffee and stop bothering me,” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh!” Dean glanced in panic at Castiel, but Castiel didn’t seem to have heard. “He doesn’t seem very open to people...I’m trying not to scare him.” Dean gave Bobby his biggest, most desperate eyes. “Especially since I don’t know anything about him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one does,” Bobby said. “He just shows up to pick up Claire...I met him the first day and made sure he was authorized and he hasn’t said a word to me since.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So...you don’t know if he’d be interested?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lemme see.” Bobby thought for a moment. “No. Cause I don’t go around asking random men if they’d like to date my nephew.” He thought another moment. “Wait, I do know one thing--he’s Claire’s uncle, not her father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Dean perked up considerably. “So there’s a chance?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Bobby said. “From what I can tell, Claire’s parents died in a car crash a few months back...she doesn’t talk about it much, but the school let me know. I’m just doing my best to give her a good experience on my team...and that means not talking to guardians.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looked down, a bit sheepish. He knew that he was the worst kind of parent spectator, the type the umpires always wanted to eject, and there was a reason Bobby didn’t let him hang around during practice too often. “Right,” he muttered. “So…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So either ask him out or get out of my dugout,” Bobby growled. “Or preferably both.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.” Dean shuffled his feet. “But since I’m here…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since you’re here, you take your daughter home,” Bobby agreed. “But you don’t come back until you grow some balls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean should have known that wouldn’t be the end of it. His family was made up of terrible gossips, so within two days everyone knew about Dean’s little crush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam was, of course, the first one to bring it up. Sam was almost always busy, but he sometimes found time to sit on Dean’s couch after work while Jack colored while lying on the floor; he did this at Dean’s house because his own floor was way too nice to have a five-year-old coloring on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So Bobby tells me there’s a hot guy you’re into?” Sam asked about two days after Bobby had confronted Dean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean rolled his eyes without even looking up from his recipe book. He was fine ordering out every night of the week, but Sam had an annoying habit of hanging around during dinner and Sam wouldn’t let half the shit Dean thought was acceptable anywhere near Jack. Dean supposed that was a fair point, though Emma hadn’t suffered unduly from Dean’s poor habits yet. “I’m not into him,” Dean said. “I just think he’s hot and he’s new in town so he might need friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re into him,” Sam declared. “So when are you going to do something about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not doing anything,” Dean said. “Bobby told me to get lost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll see him other places,” Sam said. “Parent-teacher conferences...games...maybe Emma will want to have a sleepover sometime…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam,” Dean said. “I’m not going to stalk the poor guy. He’s just gotten here and Bobby said he’s had a lot of tragedy lately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re just going to wait for him to come to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “If he’s interested, I’ll let him approach me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t think he’s thinking the same thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The dude looked scared as hell when I talked to him,” Dean said. “I’m not going to freak him out and make him pull Claire out of softball.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam rolled his eyes. “Jack, tell Uncle Dean he’s a coward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uncle Dean, you a cowed!” Jack called happily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean glared at Sam. “See if I ever make you eggplant whatever-this-is again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas was surprised it took Meg an entire week to call in reinforcements.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over that week, Dean had been hanging around the softball field more. Cas had no idea if that was normal, though it seemed not to be, since Coach Singer had actually left the field to talk to Dean the fifth time it happened. Cas didn’t know why Dean was hanging around the field more, but he guessed it was because Dean didn’t trust Cas to be who he said he was and was looking for any sign of misconduct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Cas stayed far away from Dean, avoiding his eye and trying to look as non-threatening as possible. He did notice Dean look at him a few times, but all Cas did was hunch further in his coat and avoid him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, mercifully, after Coach Singer talked to him, Dean stopped showing up. Cas was relieved; Dean was hot, sure, but he was also kind of scary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg saw things differently. Which was why Cas’s phone rang out of the blue on Monday morning while he was painting bits of broken glass for his next sculpture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas spared a glance at the caller ID and picked up. “Hello, Gabriel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas,” Gabriel said. “How’s life?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Life is...still living.” Cas had no idea how to answer that question. His life wasn’t great, but he was functioning and Claire was still healthy, so that had to be good enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s Claire?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She liking Sioux Falls?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one likes Sioux Falls. That’s why we moved here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, right, cause you’re allergic to fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get to the point, Gabriel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meg called. She said you’re in love and being dumb about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sighed. “Meg wasn’t even supposed to be here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been trying to get rid of her for ten years and haven’t managed yet. You’re stuck with her. Now back on topic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not in love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh really?” Cas could practically hear Gabriel stretching back on his couch with a candybar. “So there’s not a hot guy whose pants you want in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That does not equate to love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It really couldn’t.” Cas put the phone on speaker and went back to his painting. “This isn’t a town with a thriving gay community...I’d probably get punched for even looking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is a problem...maybe you should start by punching him first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That does not sound like a productive way to start a conversation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean? Straight guys love punching each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas rolled his eyes. “I’ll keep it in mind.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In spite of everyone’s interference, Dean managed not to speak to Castiel for the next three weeks. In fact, he managed to not even see Castiel, since he didn’t have to pick up Emma or go anywhere Castiel might be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then it was the first game of the year, and Dean was certain Castiel would be there. Of course, everyone in Dean’s entire life would be there, so it would either be the best or the worst time to start a conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel wasn’t immediately obvious when Dean and his entire family arrived at the field. They took up almost an entire row of bleachers, though there was a little bit of space at the end. Dean sat on that side, hoping no one else would show up just in case he did end up being ejected from the game. Not that he expected to, but the softball umpires didn’t like him for some reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam snorted when Dean observed this to him. “Dean, you shout that every call they make is wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, they are wrong,” Dean protested. “And I’m not the idiot for pointing it out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam turned to exchange a look with Charlie on his other side. Jack giggled and repeated “idiot” from Sam’s lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Face it, Dean, you take these games way too seriously,” Sam said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Dean snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before that could devolve into an argument, someone coughed from Dean’s other side. “Excuse me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean turned and his heart leapt to see Castiel standing there, with a beautiful dark-haired woman just behind him. Dean’s heart immediately plummeted; he should have known someone as gorgeous as Castiel would have a girlfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are these seats taken?” Castiel asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Dean said. “Please, join us.” He smiled at Castiel. “I’m glad you made it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could not miss Claire’s first game.” Castiel sat down next to Dean. They were squished a bit close, but Dean wasn’t going to object. “Dean, this is Meg Masters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Dean said, reaching over to shake Meg’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Meg said, smiling at him. She was wearing a bit too much makeup for a softball game, but Dean had to admit, it did make her look hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean glanced down the row. “I’d introduce you, but I doubt you’d be able to hear all their names.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s probably wise,” Castiel agreed. “I’m sure we’ll all have time to meet later.” He was staring straight ahead, not even paying attention to the other people on the bench.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Dean said. “Awesome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg shook her head a bit. “You’ll have to forgive him,” she said. “He has trouble in social situations...especially with eye contact.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, yeah,” Dean said, relieved that Castiel’s unfriendliness was part of his personality and not just an aversion to him. “So how long have you two been…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg laughed. “We’ve been friends for the last fourteen years,” she said. “And we haven’t been anything else for the last twelve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meg,” Castiel said sharply, but Dean felt his heart restart. Just a friend. Not a girlfriend, or a wife, just a friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg was looking down the line. “And which one is your lovely wife?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean smiled falsely at her. “None of them,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, is the tall one…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is my brother, Sam,” Dean snapped. Sam turned his head in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Meg’s smile was wider than ever. “So…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flying solo,” Dean said. “Have been for the last three years.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, then,” Meg said. “I’m so glad you and Cas have met...single men raising young women should band together, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meg,” Castiel said again, though there was no fight in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “Yeah, we should.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam leaned past Dean. “I’ve been telling Dean he needs to get out more,” he said. “But he doesn’t listen to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Sam, you go out less than I do,” Dean snapped. He had a feeling he was about to get reeled into a giant conspiracy and he wasn’t sure he’d like the outcome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can fix that,” Meg said, looking Sam over appraisingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam forced a laugh. “No thanks,” he said. “I just had a really bad breakup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shame,” Meg said. “Let me know when it’s less fresh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam gave her a perfunctory smile. Luckily, the game started just then, which took everyone’s attention away from the incredibly awkward situation that had just been created.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sat silent through most of the game, staring straight ahead, keeping his eyes on Claire. He was aware of Dean and Meg standing up on either side of him periodically and cheering, and it took every breathing exercise he had to keep himself calm. The stadium was noisy, the sun was bright, and everything was a lot </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> than Cas usually liked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on!” Dean shouted. “That was a ball!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it’s a ball,” Cas said. “That’s what they’re playing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg burst out laughing and Dean turned to stare at him. Cas blinked and managed to tear his eyes away from the field. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know how this game is played at all, do you?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Cas said. “I stopped playing sports when I left my father’s home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean huffed out a laugh. “Claire get her athletic ability from another branch of the family?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her father was an excellent athlete,” Cas said. “I just preferred to pursue my art.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded. “Yeah? What kind of art?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I make sculptures out of broken things,” Cas said. “Mostly glass. Occasionally plastics. It’s a good way to recycle...and there’s satisfaction in taking shattered things and making them something beautiful”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you can show me sometime,” Dean said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas felt his face getting hot. No, Dean didn’t mean it like that. He was just being friendly and keeping his voice low cause no one at a softball game wanted to hear about art. He wasn’t flirting at all. “I’ll let you know when I have a show next,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? That’d be awesome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Cas said, trying to tamp down on the tightness in his chest. He was just being friendly. Dean wasn’t interested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on!” Dean yelled again, making Cas jump. “She didn’t catch that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Angels won the game, to raucous cheering from all of the Winchesters. Cas managed to shout out a few encouraging words to Claire, but was mostly just relieved it was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least, until Claire came dashing up to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uncle Cas!” she said. “I caught that last fly!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas smiled at her. “Yes,” he said. “It was impressive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coach Singer invited us all for pizza!” Claire said. “Can I go? Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas stared, floundering. His head was already hurting, his hands shaking, and he needed to be out of here, back home where things were quiet and safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take you over,” she said. “We just have to take Uncle Cas home so he can lie down first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean smiled at them over his own girl’s head, but he looked a bit disappointed. “Not a pizza guy?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I just…” Cas looked helplessly at Meg, hoping she could translate and prevent him from going into a complete meltdown right here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s just a little overwhelmed,” Meg said. “This was a lot of excitement for today and the Pizza Hut is going to be very loud.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Dean said. “We can take Claire with us, I have an extra seat in my car.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas hesitated. He didn’t know Dean at all, really, and he wasn’t sure that he could trust him with Claire. On the other hand, there would be eighteen girls and quite a few more adults there, and it was a small enough town…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll make sure she’s home before curfew,” one of the women sitting with Dean said. Cas vaguely recognized her as the sheriff, and he managed a nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clair beamed at him. “Bye, Uncle Cas!” she said. “Feel better!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas managed to wave and let Meg lead him down from the bleachers and into the car. He didn’t untense until Meg pulled into the driveway, and he still stumbled back into the house, dropping his coat on the floor and kicking his shoes into a corner before padding into his art room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg sighed loudly behind him as she followed. “I’m not your maid,” she snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll pick up later,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in his tone got Meg to look a little more sympathetic. She knelt down next to Cas’s chair, taking his hand. “Hey,” she said. “You did good...you even managed to have two conversations with Dean. That’s huge, Cas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas squeezed her hand, though it wasn’t very strong. “I don’t know why I thought I could do this,” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do what?” Meg asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be a dad...keep Claire safe. Be...normal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one’s asking you to be normal, Cas. You’re in a new situation...it’s going to be difficult for a while.” Meg rubbed the back of Cas’s hand with her thumb, which did soothe him quite a lot. The repetitive nature of the circles was calming, something to focus on. It had been Meg’s favorite method of calming him ever since they had met. “I know that was a lot of stimulation for one afternoon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But...I sent her off with strangers,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coach Singer is with her,” Meg said. “As is Sheriff Mills. And you can’t hover over her...she’s twelve. She’s going to want to go out with her friends, and you need to give her some independence, especially when you’re overstimulated and need quiet time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But…” Cas swallowed. “If anyone finds out…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Meg asked. “Girls her age go places without their guardians...and it’s not like you sent her off by herself. There are thirty responsible adults there with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She only went because I’m not capable of taking care of her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Every parent needs time off. No one’s going to judge you for letting her go have fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas finally nodded. “Okay.” He stayed there another minute before gently pulling his hand away. “That’s enough...I’m going to paint now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right.” Meg stood up. “Do you want dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get something later,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg kissed the top of his head. “I’ll hold you to that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To Dean’s surprise, once Claire was out of sight of her uncle, she was a fairly bubbly and sociable girl. Not nearly as talkative as Emma, sure, but the two of them gossipped happily in the backseat of the Impala all the way to Pizza Hut. Dean didn’t try to keep up with the conversation; he knew that preteen girls would go on for hours if they weren’t interrupted. Ben, sitting in the front seat, kept glancing back at them, but he made no attempt to join the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, it wasn’t too long a drive, and once they’d arrived, Emma and Claire were happy to disappear into the crowd of their teammates, all yammering on. Dean sympathized with Castiel; the room was very loud and crowded and Dean wouldn’t want to be here if he was already exhausted, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean and Ben found seats across from Bobby and Jody. Bobby was bearing the chaos with his usual irritable calm, while Jody was happy to talk to the team mothers. Jo and Ellen were mostly supervising the girls, while Charlie had gathered a few of them around her with talk of Harry Potter and other such things. Sam had opted to skip this dinner, saying that Jack was too tired and they had eaten enough crap that week anyway. Ben stayed next to Dean for only a few minutes before he scampered off, no doubt to try and flirt with one of the girls and be roundly rejected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Bobby said over the fourth or fifth slice of pizza.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what?” Dean asked through his mouthful. Jody and Ellen both gave him stern, motherly glares and Dean swallowed guilty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Notice you talked to Castiel.” Bobby was talking quietly enough that the girls couldn’t hear, but Dean still glowered at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was sitting next to me,” Dean said. “It would have been rude not to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So did you ask him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask him what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On a date!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That last one was a bit too loud and several of the girls started giggling. Dean glared harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he said. “He was already freaking out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s always freaking out,” Jody said. “I see him around town and he always looks about ten seconds away from a panic attack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Dean said. “He’s already terrified of everything...I don’t want to make it worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He could use a friend,” Jody said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He has a friend,” Dean said. “Meg.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jody and Bobby both rolled their eyes. “He needs more than one friend,” Jody corrected. “And she didn’t look like his friend so much as his caretaker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that’s the case, I don’t know that I could ask him out,” Dean said. “I mean...I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not...I don’t think it’s like that,” Jody said. “I mean, you’d have to ask Sam, but I’m pretty sure if he was incapable of taking care of himself or making adult decisions, he wouldn’t have custody of his niece.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded. “Okay, fine. Still doesn’t mean…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you talking about my uncle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean turned, feeling immensely guilty. He didn’t know when Claire had moved down the table, but somehow, she had ended up next to Dean and was now looking up at him with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...sorry,” Dean said. “That was rude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were talking about asking him out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um...well…” Dean blushed. His own kids teased him mercilessly about finding love again, and that was hard enough, but to have someone else’s kid getting involved…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should,” Claire said. “He likes you. Only he thinks you’re not gay so he won’t say anything.” She said it so matter-of-factly, like it only made sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bobby and Jody both raised their eyebrows. “There you have it,” Bobby said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, Claire,” Dean said. “I’d like to, but he doesn’t seem like he’d enjoy it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cause he’s autistic?” Claire said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean blinked. “I...didn’t know,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Claire said. “But my dad told me...Uncle Cas isn’t stupid or immature or anything, he’s just a little bit different. He doesn’t like loud noises or big crowds much, and there’s some foods he won’t eat, and sometimes he gets upset and scared and doesn’t talk for a little while, but he’s nice. He does his art and likes flower gardens and he wants to start keeping bees in the spring. And he’s really lonely and no one ever gives him a chance cause they think he’s weird and scared and they don’t know how to act around him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean, Bobby and Jody just stared at her for a long minute. Claire flushed. “Was I not supposed to say all that?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea,” Dean said. “But maybe you should ask Cas if he’s okay with you sharing in the future.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire nodded. “But...but maybe you can give him a chance,” she said. “Maybe you can give us a chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sighed. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma came scampering over. “Claire!” she shrieked. “We’re starting a BS round!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire gave Dean a smile and followed Emma back to the other side of the table. Dean turned back to Bobby and Jody, who were both smirking at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop doing that,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Bobby asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The synchronized smug expressions,” Dean said. “Makes a guy feel put on the spot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, would you rather us do some good cop, bad cop?” Jody asked. “Cause we can arrange that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather everyone leave my personal life alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bobby rolled his eyes. “It’s been three years since the divorce,” he said. “You haven’t even tried dating in all that time, just spent all your time working and all your other time raising kids. You need a break, and someone to talk to who isn’t your family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I talk to Garth,” Dean protested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, to yell at him.” Bobby rolled his eyes. “You need someone you actually respect to talk to besides family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I also talk to Lisa!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About your mutual son. Still counts as family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to even make it a romance,” Jody said. “I said Castiel needs a friend...well, you do too. Castiel is lonely, you’re lonely, you have a few things in common...I’d say it’s a good start.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sighed. “All right,” he said. “If I get a good opportunity, I’ll take him for coffee or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The synchronized smug expressions returned. Dean rolled his eyes and moved down the table to talk to Charlie, who would never think of haranguing him about his love life. At least, not when she had a bunch of young girls eager to learn how to hack bank accounts.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Claire wasn’t stupid. Neither was Emma. They could tell when two people had crushes on each other pretty easily, especially when they were the people they happened to live with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So here’s the thing,” Claire said over lunch at school on Monday. She had convinced Emma to sit at a table away from the rest of the softball team that day; it was hard, since Emma was really social, but Claire wasn’t going to announce this to everyone. “Your dad likes my uncle, and my uncle likes him back, but they’re both too dumb to say anything about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma nodded. “I knew Dad liked someone,” she said. “But no one would tell me who...I just figured it was a guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So your dad is gay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s bi...I think. He was married to a woman for five years, and of course…” Emma gestured at herself. “But Uncle Sam says Dad dated a lot of men and women before I was born. So that’s not a problem...is your uncle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so,” Claire said. “The only woman he’s ever talked about is Meg, and she’s his best friend...my dad always said that Cas wasn’t interested in women, but he didn’t talk about it much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t mean he’s into guys,” Emma pointed out. “He might not like anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire thought a moment, then shook her head. “I asked Meg why she and Cas didn’t get married and she said it was because he’d be happier with someone else...and she’s been urging him to talk to your dad when she thinks I’m not listening. So even if Cas isn’t like, gay-gay, he at least likes your dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Emma said. “So we agree they like each other and they should date...so what now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to get them to spend time around each other,” Claire said. “No one can ask anyone else out if they never see each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Emma said. “And your uncle doesn’t like going places much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He likes going quiet places,” Claire corrected. “But he does feel a lot safer at home. So it’d be easier to get him to say something there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad isn’t a quiet place kind of guy, so we’ll have to get him to go to your house,” Emma said. She thought a moment, then smiled a bit. “You wanna come over to study tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire blinked, then smiled as well. “I think so,” she said. “You’re so much better at math than me...Uncle Cas is worried about my grades.” She glanced around surreptitiously before pulling her phone out and sending a quick text to Cas. “I just asked permission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma nodded and ate her lunch politely for a minute before Claire’s phone buzzed. Emma leaned over to see the response.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Claire 12:39 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can I go to Emma’s house for math help tonight?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cas 12:42 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay but be home by 8.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma and Claire grinned at each other. This was going perfectly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surprisingly enough, Emma and Claire got quite a lot of studying done that night. Dean hadn’t even looked that shocked to see Claire when he got home from the auto shop, just asked if she was staying for dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Dinner wasn’t anything great; apparently Dean didn’t know how to cook anything without use of a microwave or coaching from the sidelines, but Claire was glad to eat something that wasn’t halfway to vegan or from one of the three takeout places Cas could stand for a change.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire was set to leave at 7:30. It wasn’t too far a walk, but apparently that was too much for Dean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll drive you,” he said. “Streets are dangerous at night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Claire beamed; the plan of forgetting her coat seemed unnecessary now. She’d just have to convince Dean to come inside. “Can Emma come? I wanna show her my gecko!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean raised his eyebrows. “Your...what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My pet gecko!” Claire said. “His name is Emmanuel and I’ve had him since he was a baby!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, pleeeease?” Emma chimed in. “I love lizards!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean raised his eyebrows; Emma wasn’t a girly girl by any means, but she had always balked at reptiles before now. Still, if that’s what she wanted, Dean didn’t have good reason to say no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, but just for a little while,” he said. “We don’t want to bother Mr. Novak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girls both squealed and Dean had a feeling this wasn’t about a gecko at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The house Claire directed Dean to wasn’t very big, but it did have a lot of yard. Dean remembered that Claire had said Cas wanted to raise bees someday, and this looked like a good place to do it. He stopped the car and walked the girls up to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It opened as they approached. Meg was there, smiling at them. “Hello, girls,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Meg!” Claire said. “Can I show Emma Emmanuel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t see why not,” Meg said. “Just don’t be too loud.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We know!” The girls scampered off down the hall, leaving Dean standing awkwardly in the doorway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on in,” Meg said. “My cherry pie just cooled and I need someone to try it since Cas never criticizes anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean grinned. “Well, how can I say no to that?” He followed Meg down the hall to a large and warm kitchen. Cas was sitting at the table, eyes closed, in a ratty t-shirt and paint-stained jeans. Dean’s mouth went dry; Cas should not look attractive like this, but he somehow did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coffee?” Meg asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas jumped and turned, eyes going wide. “Oh...Dean,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Claire wanted to show Emma a lizard,” Dean said. “And everyone from my brother to my ex-wife will tell you I can’t say no when Emma’s begging for something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded. Meg shook her head a little and went to get pie and coffee for all of them. Dean hovered awkwardly for a moment, feeling like he was invading.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit down,” Meg said. “It’s not too late and the girls aren’t causing trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sat across from Cas. That was a little better; at any rate, he felt like he was less threatening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, um…” Dean floundered for conversation. The only thing he could think about was the urging of everyone in his life to ask Cas out, and he thought it was a little soon for that, especially since he’d basically ambushed the poor guy in his own home. He glanced down and noticed a tiny sculpture on the table. “Is that your work?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas blinked. “Yes,” he said. “Contemplations of a Honey Bee Number Five.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded, examining the piece closely. It was round, almost floral, with various warm colors running up and around it, made of tiny shards of glass. Dean wondered how Cas worked with such sharp pieces without cutting his hands to ribbons. “I like it,” Dean said after a minute. “It’s like feeling a bee run up your hand...just with less chance of getting stung.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bees don’t sting unless they’re threatened,” Cas said. “If you let them just crawl and don’t move too fast or swat at them, they leave you alone. It just tickles a little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “That’s what it looks like...tickling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas smiled, and Dean felt his chest tighten with warmth. Cas had a wonderful smile, so earnest and gentle, and Dean thought he might give up his entire life in pursuit of making Cas smile like that all the time. “You’re the first person who’s ever understood what I was going for,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Dean asked. “It didn’t seem too difficult to interpret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most people think it’s weird,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s beautiful.” Dean smiled over his coffee cup. “Could I see the other four sometime?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I sold Numbers Two and Three.” Cas fidgeted a little. “But I can get the others?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas hopped up and headed down the hall. Dean glanced over at Meg, who was smirking. “You sure you don’t want to ask him anything else?” she teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean glared at her; it was definitely a conspiracy now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas came back in, carrying two more sculptures. One was twisting, cool colors swirling up and down, while the other was flat, more of a mosaic, a rainbow clash. Dean leaned over, studying them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg pulled out her phone. “Oh, I have to take this,” she said, even though Dean hadn’t heard any ringing. Meg walked out of the room and disappeared down the hall, leaving Dean and Cas alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These are awesome,” Dean said. He picked up the mosaic, holding it about a foot away. “It’s what a bee sees when looking for pollen, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded, still smiling. “Though the colors are different for them,” he said. “I just wish I could paint with those colors...really see the world through their eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So why bees?” Dean asked. “I mean...bees are awesome, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who’s this into them before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas stared ahead for a moment, his smile fading. Dean immediately felt that he’d said something wrong. “Sorry,” Dean said. “I mean...you don’t have to talk about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Cas said. “It’s...it’s okay.” He stared off for another moment, clearly choosing his words carefully. “There was...a part of my life that I spent entirely indoors. I didn’t see outside for almost a year. And then...then I was let out and the first thing I saw was a honey bee on a tulip. It was...inspiring. It made me hope again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Inside? Like in prison?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not the kind you’re thinking of,” Cas said. “But...something like it, I think.” He looked down at his coffee, blinking quickly. “I’d rather not discuss that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dean said. “That’s okay...I’d rather hear about the bee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas managed a small smile. “It was beautiful, Dean...something so alive...so busy. It didn’t have to think of anything except getting its pollen and making its honey. I thought...I thought that if I could make something like that bee, I’d be content in my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you make something really awesome,” Dean said. “Though I don’t know if Sioux Falls is the type of place it gets appreciated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Cas said. “But it’s safer up here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emma tells me you came from Omaha?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most recently...I drifted a lot after college. But Omaha was nice, and then Jimmy moved close and I thought...I thought I might have a real home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jimmy was Claire’s dad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes...my twin brother.” Cas closed his eyes. “I’m sorry...I...it’s still really fresh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get it,” Dean said. “I mean...Sam’s younger than me, but...I can’t imagine…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looked like he wanted to say something more, but shook himself. “I’ve got Claire still,” he said. “It’s not...I never imagined being any sort of father, but...but I’m trying. I just don’t know how to be good at it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded in sympathy. “I don’t think any of us know,” he said. “I mean…I’ve had Emma since she was a year old and I still don’t feel like I’m any good at being a dad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s happy,” Cas said. “And she’s been very kind to Claire. I think you did fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...Claire’s a good kid,” Dean said. “I think you’re doing okay, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Most of that’s Jimmy’s work,” Cas said. “But yeah...I think...maybe I can do it. And if I can’t, Meg’s here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So...Meg is your friend?” Dean said. He hadn’t quite managed to sort out the relationship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “She’s my best friend...and that’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But she lives here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have three bedrooms,” Cas said. “She contributes to the bills and food...and watches Claire if I’m having a bad day. She’s not...I’m not…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Dean said. “I just...wasn’t clear if she was...your friend or working for you or what.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sighed, nodding. “You thought she was my nurse or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean raised his hands. “I wasn’t sure,” he said. “She acts like a caretaker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is a nurse, at the hospital,” Cas said. “And she has trouble turning that off sometimes. But I don’t…” He huffed a bit, clearly struggling. “I know Claire told you about my...condition. But I don’t need help. I can take care of myself, and Claire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Dean said. “My brother’s a family court lawyer, and I know that you wouldn’t have her if you weren’t capable. I just wasn’t sure of Meg’s part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Cas said. “Well. That’s all she is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She indicated you two have a past.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We dated for two months in college and then broke up...irreconcilable differences.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean snorted. “Oh, I know all about those,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ex-girlfriend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ex-wife...Lisa. But...I guess she’s pretty much just like Meg, only she lives an hour away in Iowa. Other than that...same thing. Best friend, we split custody of our son, she tries to care for me...but there’s nothing else there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But she’s not Emma’s mother?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah...that was before I met Lisa. One night stand, then her mom went crazy and I ended up with Emma.” Dean smiled wistfully. “Best mistake I ever made.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded. They were quiet for a minute, finishing their pie and coffee. Dean finally sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should go,” he said. “Girls have school tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Cas sounded as reluctant as Dean did. “Guess I’ll see you later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Dean stood up and took his dishes to the sink. “Hopefully soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looked faintly worried, but he nodded. “Hopefully.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean smiled at him and went to find Emma to take her home.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>To Cas’s disappointment, he didn’t see much of Dean for another two weeks. Oh, he spotted Dean here and there, mostly at softball games, but it was always too crowded for Cas to get a seat by him and always too loud for Cas to be very functional afterward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire and Meg were still pushing, but either Dean had found good reasons not to see Cas again or they were less manipulative than they thought. Cas wasn’t sure if he should be glad or disappointed; he wanted to spend more time with Dean, but he wanted it to be on his terms, not theirs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Coach Singer called a parents’ meeting for the softball team, and Cas was almost elated. Sure, he hated parents meetings, where there were so many judgmental people and he had to listen to things he didn’t care about, but Dean would be there, and there wouldn’t be too much excitement for Cas to be able to speak after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas arrived early and found a seat near the back. The other parents--all mothers, actually--kept glancing back at him, some with disapproval, some with interest. Cas did his best to ignore them, but his face kept heating up and his hands were shaking a lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean arrived just before the meeting was due to start. He smiled and took the seat next to Cas. “Hey,” Dean said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Cas sat up straighter, clenching his hands. “Just...they keep staring at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, cause you’re hot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas blinked, face going redder. “I...what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean grinned at him. “What, you didn’t know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never considered the matter,” Cas said truthfully. “And these women are married.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not all of them,” Dean said. “If you were interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, probably a good thing. They’re sharks and you’re a chum bag.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is not comforting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean was spared having to answer by Coach Singer coming in and starting the meeting. Cas turned to pay attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The tournament in Lincoln is invite-only, and we’re undefeated this season,” Bobby said. “So we’ve got an invite. It’ll be a two-day trip, overnight, so I’ll need all of you to sign permission forms, and if anyone wants to volunteer as a chaperone, please let me know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the mothers raised her hand. “Do we have to pay for this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fundraiser in January will cover it,” Coach Singer said. “It’s a good opportunity for them, and I hope they can all take it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas stared helplessly ahead. It was a good opportunity, but the idea of sending Claire three and a half hours away, overnight, without him...he could already imagine every horrible scenario possible and he couldn’t stand the thought of not being with her. On the other hand, spending three and a half hours on a bus with eighteen screaming preteen girls sounded like more of a sensory hell than an actual softball game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looked at him, concerned. “You okay?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Cas said. “Sending her away overnight…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could chaperone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas shook his head. “That bus will be too loud...I wouldn’t do them any good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded, thinking. “Well,” he said. “I always go to Emma’s games, but I don’t like being on a bus with them much...why don’t we drive down together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas blinked. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, why not?” Dean said. “We can share the driving, and a room...cheaper that way, especially since Sam probably won’t come. I mean, the girls will want to go on the bus with their friends, so it would be lonely driving down by myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas considered carefully. Spending seven hours in a car with Dean, and two nights in a hotel...he knew he shouldn’t hope, but that was a lot of time to be alone with Dean. “If you’re sure…” Cas said. “I mean...most men don’t want to share a room with…people like me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean rolled his eyes. “Seriously? It’s a crappy hotel during a softball tournament. So unless you snore really loud or do weird naked yoga crap, I don’t see why it would be a problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas half-smiled. “No to that second one,” he said. “You’ll have to ask Meg if I snore, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly? You can’t be as bad as Bobby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean picked Cas up at three o’clock exactly on Friday afternoon. Cas vaguely recognized that the car Dean was driving was nice, though he couldn’t identify it very well. “This is a very...nice car,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is my Baby,” Dean said. “Sixty-seven Chevy Impala. Rebuilt her from the ground up when I was sixteen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Cas shrugged and put his bag in the backseat before climbing into the front. He frowned and adjusted the seat so he could sit next to Dean properly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean grinned. “Usually Sam’s seat,” he said. “He’s a lot taller than you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Cas settled in, staring straight ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugged and started the car. They were quiet as they left Sioux Falls, but then Dean chanced a glance over. “Music okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “Just not too loud?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Course.” Dean smiled at him and turned on the tape deck, the sound of Creedence Clearwater Revival sounding out through the car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a fairly calm trip. Dean drove, bouncing to his music, occasionally singing along. Cas sat still, staring straight ahead, though his eyes would sometimes flick toward Dean. It was good. Calm. An hour in, Cas closed his eyes, imagining that it was Jimmy next to him, that he was taking a road trip with his brother like they’d always talked about, in whispers late at night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unbidden, tears came to Cas’s eyes. He knew he shouldn’t allow it, that he shouldn’t cry. That was what he was told, and when he did…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. Jimmy had been there, to whisper promises, that they would leave, that they would drive across America together, see the entire world, and never go home. At least, he had before their father had put a stop to it. But they had escaped, they had left and run as far as they could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe they hadn’t managed to see the world, but they certainly hadn’t gone home. And now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now Cas was driving three hours souh with someone else. Someone who certainly wasn’t his twin, but was almost as kind, maybe a little more friendly, who sang loudly and was so enthusiastic about everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Around hour two, Dean turned off the music. “So...you’re not a car guy, are you?” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Cas said. “My father tried to teach me, but...I never had the hands for it. Not like my brothers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many brothers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas blinked. “Seven,” he said. “And a sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean whistled. “Big family...always thought it sounded nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas tensed. “It was...less than ideal,” he said. “My father had...ideas about how we should be. Ideas of what we would become...and the path we had to take. And he wouldn’t let any of us deviate from it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Dean was quiet for a few minutes. “My dad was similar...he had a plan for me and Sam, and when we didn’t want to follow it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Cas swallowed heavily. “But you still have Sam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “I held onto him...and then Bobby took us out of there...gave me a job, a place to live...helped me raise Emma. And I kind of rebuilt my family from there...with Bobby and Ellen and Jo...and Sam and I sort of adopted Charlie, and then Sam really adopted Jack, and...and it was good. It’s really good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas blinked back tears. He couldn’t let Dean see him cry, couldn’t let Dean know he was weak. “The only family I’ve had since leaving home were Jimmy, Amelia, Claire and Meg,” he said. “It wasn’t...it was little...but good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But now it’s even smaller.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Cas said. “Sometimes...sometimes I want to go home...be with a big family. But I can’t...not after...everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t go back,” Dean said. “It’s better to have less family than a crappy family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “Yes...that’s true. But...I might want to have more family. Someday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “More family you love is awesome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They talked the rest of the way to Lincoln. Well, Dean talked. Cas mostly listened, and asked questions. Cas knew he should contribute more to the conversation, but he liked listening to Dean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean talked about Emma and Ben, about Lisa, about Sam. He talked about some of the friends and lovers he’d had in the past, Lydia and Benny and Elly. He talked about growing up in Kansas, and working as a mechanic, and Cas ached to hear about such a normal, loving life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was almost sad when they arrived in Lincoln and went to meet the girls for dinner. Cas managed to get through the meal without a panic attack, though it was a close thing. It was bright and noisy and the food was badly made and Cas really, really wanted to go home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he couldn’t. Even if he had driven himself, he couldn’t leave Claire here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least Claire was having a good time, laughing with her friends. Cas smiled, watching her. She seemed normal. Happy. That had to be enough. Cas could suffer through a dozen team dinners if Claire was happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was still a relief when it ended and Dean drove them to the hotel. Check-in was a nightmare, making sure all the girls and chaperones were organized. But finally, Dean had a key and Cas was stumbling behind him up to a room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Small. Two beds, TV, not much else. “Door or window?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Door.” Cas wouldn’t let himself be trapped. He needed an easy escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugged and put his bag down on the further bed. Cas set his bag down slowly, still shaking from the entire time in the restaurant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you have the first shower?” Dean said. “Clear your head a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The water was good. High pressure, high heat. It helped, calming him. By the time he was finished, Cas was fine. Back to normal, or what passed for normal for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean was watching something on the TV when Cas emerged in his sweats and t-shirt. Cas sat down on the other bed, staring straight at the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you always sit like that?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like...what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All straight and...staring.” Dean waved vaguely. “You know. Like you’re in the principal’s office.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...yes.” Cas sighed. “My father always had us sit like this...I never broke the habit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded. “So that’s trained in, not part of…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s hard to say,” Cas said. “Though I think I took to it more easily than the others. Or maybe I just got punished more for not doing it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looked at him with big, sympathetic eyes. “That sounds awful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was.” Cas knew he shouldn’t say it, but he didn’t understand why people wanted to sugarcoat everything. “I don’t want to talk about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Dean got up and headed for the bathroom. Cas just stared at the TV, not really paying attention to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean was so nice to him. So open. So...handsome. He hadn’t pushed Cas away, even though he knew that Cas wasn’t at all normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean reappeared, in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else, skins still slightly damp from the shower. Cas’s mouth went very, very dry. “Um…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh...sorry.” Dean went back to his bed. “I overheat easily...is it okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “Yes, it’s...fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Dean flopped down again and went back to watching TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas glanced around. “No minibar,” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Dean said. “I...asked for a room without.” He held up a cord, with a disk on it. “Ten years sober.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Cas forced a little smile. “No use asking you out for a drink, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean smiled back, and it looked genuine. “Maybe not at a bar,” he said. “We’d both hate it. But if you want to have coffee when we get home, I’d like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Cas tried not to be too hopeful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “And yeah, I mean it like a date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Cas said. “Coffee would be nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great,” Dean said. He picked up the remote and turned off the TV. “Now let’s get some sleep. Games start at ass o’clock in the morning and I want to be alert enough to watch Emma kick all of their asses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean knew that Cas was not okay the moment they entered the stadium. It was already fairly loud and crowded, more people than ever attended games in Sioux Falls. Dean guided Cas to a seat near the exits, knowing that either he would be ejected or Cas would have a panic attack before the day was over and either way, at least one of them would need to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first game went well. The Angels won it, and were sent to the stands to rest up and watch the other teams. Emma and Claire found Dean and Cas almost at once, sitting down next to them and chattering as usual, though maybe a little less energetic. It was early and they’d been playing hard, after all. More people kept coming in, everyone on the bleachers moving closer together, having to squeeze in to find space, the noise increasing every minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas was clutching the edge of the bleachers by the end of the second game, his jaw clenched tight. Dean had done his best to keep the girls occupied, but he could tell that Cas needed a break soon. As soon as the game ended, Dean turned back to Emma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emma, I’m going to concessions,” he said. “Do you want anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A banana,” Emma said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool...Claire?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m good.” Claire was looking at Cas with about as much worry as Dean was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...maybe some juice?” Claire said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Dean smiled at the girls and stood up. “Cas? Wanna come with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas jerked suddenly. “What? I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going down to concessions,” Dean repeated. “You should come with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh...yes.” Cas shot a worried look at Claire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go on,” Claire said. “I’m with Emma and Coach Singer is right there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” Cas stood up, shaky on his feet, and followed Dean down from the bleachers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The concession stand wasn’t too far from the pitch, but Cas still breathed easier once they were out of the crowd with a little more space around them. The concession line was fairly long but moving quickly; Dean just hoped it would be enough time for Cas to decompress a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to go back to the hotel, just let me know,” Dean said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Cas said. “No, I need to stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure? Only it was looking pretty rough back there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas took a few deep breaths. “I’m fine,” he said. “I can do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean continued to look worried. “Cas…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said I’m fine.” Cas didn’t mean to snap, but he didn’t want Dean thinking he was weak or an inadequate parent. Not when Dean had already agreed to go on a date with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Dean didn’t say anything else until they got to the front of the line. He ordered a number of items, though nothing excessive, and passed Cas a bottle of water as soon as they were away. Cas sipped it gratefully, fighting to keep himself calm at the thought of going back up into the crowded stands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t have to go right away,” Dean said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can run things up to the girls and we could just...stay down here a bit.” Dean shrugged. “They aren’t playing right now and aren’t slated for their second game for another hour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m supposed to keep an eye on Claire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Claire’s fine, Cas. There are four other adults with her, and we’re right here if anything happens. She’ll understand you need a break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas hesitated, his desire for quiet clearly warring with his need to watch Claire. Dean sighed. “Tell you what. I’m going to run stuff up there, and I’ll be back. We’ll stay down here for ten minutes and if you feel better, we can go back up. If you don’t, we can stay here. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” It sounded reasonable enough, and Cas knew he wouldn’t be able to sit through another nine hours of this without breaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean smiled and turned, heading back up into the stands. Cas sipped his water and paced around the back of the bleachers a bit, trying not to look too peculiar. He knew that it was a bit too warm to still be wearing his trenchcoat and people were looking at him, but he never felt very safe being out of the house without it on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had just finished the water when Dean returned, arms considerably less full. He did produce another water bottle and handed it off. “Come on,” Dean said. “I know a quiet spot where you can sit down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas followed Dean further from the softball pitch into the surrounding park. Dean guided him over to a bench, close enough to get back to the stadium in a hurry but far enough away that the noise from the tournament was muted. Cas sat down, grateful and exhausted. Dean sat next to him, a faint worry line still between his eyes. “Is this okay?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me being this close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh...yeah. You’re fine.” Cas shifted, settling a bit more, and sipped the water for a moment. He hesitated a bit, wondering if it might be too soon. Still… He held out his hand. “I...sometimes, when I’m panicking...it helps if someone...rubs the back of my hand.” He blushed hard saying it, but Meg wasn’t here and Cas’s other methods of self-soothing would be more disruptive out here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looked confused, but he took Cas’s hand and started moving his thumb up and down. “Like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Circles,” Cas said. “It’s...easier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded and adjusted, rubbing small circles into Cas’s hand. Cas closed his eyes, focusing on that. Dean’s thumb moved a little faster than Meg’s, and his hand was much broader and rougher, but it was still good. Cas breathed deep, counting in his head, and slowly, slowly his chest started to loosen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What for?” Dean asked. “Not liking crowds? A lot of people don’t like crowds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but…” Cas looked down at where their hands were joined. “Most people don’t…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Dean reached over with his other hand and tipped Cas’s chin up. “This right here? This is good...this is us...knowing each other, right? And I want to help you, Cas. So if that means I sit here and rub your hand for an hour, that’s what I’m gonna do. And if that means you want to drop everything and drive home right now, I’ll do that too. Or if it means you want to go back to the girls, we can do that, and if you want me to keep doing this once we’re up there, I’m okay with that. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But...people will see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So? The girls have been clamoring for us to do...this...for weeks now. Or did you really think Claire just wanted to show Emma her gecko for twenty minutes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did not see any reason for the deception at the time,” Cas said. “Though in retrospect, it was a very obvious ploy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly...they were trying to make us talk, and it worked. And Bobby’s been telling me to ask you out ever since I first met you. And anyone else...well, I don’t give a damn about anyone else if our girls are happy and we’re happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stayed there for a long time, silent. Dean didn’t stop the circles on Cas’s hand, didn’t stop looking at him with so much concern that it almost made Cas’s chest go tight again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, though, Cas nodded. “That’s enough,” he said, gently pulling his hand away. “I can go back now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Dean stood up and they headed back to the pitch and to their seats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Uncle Cas?” Claire asked once they’d sat down again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “I just needed quiet time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire nodded and went back to watching the game until the Angels were called down to get ready for their next match.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if throughout the rest of the day, Cas sometimes reached out for Dean, well, no one mentioned it. Nor did Dean refuse; he just accepted Cas’s hand, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back, and they were okay to get through the rest of the tournament.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, the Angels came in second, mostly because by the time the final game rolled around, all of them were very tired. It was still an exciting game, and in spite of the very close loss, the girls were very happy at dinner that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were, at least, too tired to be talking quite as loud or quite as fast. Dean normally didn’t mind tween girl chatter, but he was glad of it tonight. He could tell that Cas was on his last legs, and if there had been any more noise, there would have been a problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it seemed to be going okay. Cas sat next to Claire, listening to her talk about the tournament, going through the highlights, and if he didn’t talk much in turn, well, that didn’t seem to be unusual. At any rate, Claire didn’t seem overly distressed by it, and Cas didn’t reach for Dean’s hand on his other side, so Dean figured it was probably okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was still a relief to get back to the hotel. Dean and Cas saw Emma and Clair and two of their friends to their room before retreating to their own, both exhausted. Dean knew that the day hadn’t been nearly as hard on him as it was for Cas, but it had still been very long and they had to drive home in the morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas retreated into the bathroom almost immediately, no doubt to decompress. Dean considered turning on the TV, but even that seemed like it would be a lot right now, so he pulled out an auto mechanics magazine and read instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took almost half an hour before Cas reappeared, hair still damp, looking a lot calmer than he had all day. Dean gave him a small smile. “Okay?” he asked softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. He pulled his own book out of his bag, along with an iPod and headphones. Dean got the hint that he wasn’t wanted right then and went to clean up himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he came back, Cas had fallen asleep, book lying open on his chest, headphones still on. Dean hesitated; it didn’t look very comfortable, but he wasn’t sure Cas would welcome any interference.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean debated for a minute before he reached down and gently extracted the book. He marked Cas’s place with one of the hotel notes, then very, very carefully reached down to remove the headphones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas jerked violently, his hand closing on Dean’s wrist, squeezing a lot tighter than Dean expected he’d be able to. Cas’s eyes flew open and he sat up, still clutching Dean’s wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy, Cas,” Dean said. “It’s just me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas stared a moment before taking his headphones off. “What were you doing?” he demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just getting your headphones off,” Dean said. “It didn’t look comfortable to sleep like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Cas didn’t let go of Dean, but his grip did loosen a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I overstepped,” Dean said. “I shouldn’t have…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Cas said. He was staring straight ahead, not even seeming to realize he was still holding onto Dean. “No, you were...I’m sorry, I...I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Dean carefully sat down on the bed, not trying to pull away and startle Cas more. “It’s my fault...I should have realized you wouldn’t want me to touch you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that,” Cas said. “I’m just used to people taking away the things that soothe me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean felt his heart breaking as Cas said it. Cas’s face was still, but his eyes were very bright. Dean looked down at where Cas was still holding him. Cas’s hand was trembling ever so slightly, and his breathing was a bit shallow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Dean repeated. “I didn’t know...I just didn’t want you to get tangled in the cord...I’ve done that a few times and it’s not fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You meant well,” Cas said. “They always meant well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean wanted to ask who Cas meant, but he wasn’t sure the question would be welcome. Cas had been thus far very reluctant to talk about his past up until now, and judging from his reactions to things, Dean guessed it wasn’t very pleasant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas was still staring straight ahead, not looking at Dean. Dean wasn’t even sure if Cas was aware of who he was talking to. “It started by putting me in a room away from the others,” Cas said, his voice almost a whisper. Dean stayed very still, almost holding his breath to hear him. “My father thought...he didn’t think Jimmy should talk to me at night. And then he took my books, and my radio...it was just...dark. There wasn’t anything, just me...and he didn’t like it when I rocked or petted a blanket...so he took the blankets...and if I started rocking or anything…that’s when he got the belt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas…” Dean began, but he might as well have not spoken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t find ways to calm myself again until I’d left,” Cas continued. “And even now, I can’t do it very well...every time I try, I just feel like someone is going to make me stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shifted a bit. Cas blinked and looked down, as though suddenly realizing he was still holding onto Dean’s wrist. He let go, snatching his hand back and shrinking away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Dean said. “Hey, it’s okay...I’m not upset.” He hesitated; he was fairly sure the correct action now was to offer a hug, but that sounded exhausting and Dean had never been much of a hugger. Instead, he held out his hand in case Cas wanted to hold it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas just stared at him, not moving, not taking his hand, just stared until Dean grew uncomfortable and pulled back. “Okay,” Dean said. “Not that, then.” He sighed a little. “Why don’t we try to sleep, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas still didn’t move, just watched Dean, looking confused and maybe a little scared. Dean swallowed. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “Not ever, not if I can help it. Just tell me how to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat there for several minutes before Cas uncurled a bit and reached out, taking Dean’s hand. Dean started his circles, almost unconscious now. “See?” Dean said. “I want to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded, tugging at Dean’s hand. Dean frowned, but let Cas pull him until they were lying side by side, their hands still entwined. Cas looked at him, as though to ask if it was okay, though it seemed that Cas had lost his words for the moment. Dean smiled at him, trying to assure him that it was more than okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Cas fell asleep again, and Dean’s hand had stopped moving, too tired to continue. Dean just managed to reach over to turn out the lamp before he fell asleep as well, not letting go of Cas’s hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was nice to fall asleep holding someone’s hand.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Cas was silent as they got packed up and back in the car the next morning. Dean didn’t mention the night before, unsure of what he would even say. He wasn’t sure how much of it Cas really remembered, and he didn’t want whatever this was to end if Cas did remember and didn’t want to discuss it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas settled into the passenger seat and pulled out his iPod and headphones. Dean made sure that Cas was calm and settled before he turned on his tape deck, keeping the volume low.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The drive back to Sioux Falls was almost entirely silent apart from their music. After two hours, Cas did put away his iPod, but he didn’t speak, just stared out the windshield. Dean considered starting a conversation, but he wasn’t even sure what to say. The day before had been exhausting, but it had also been good, and Dean wanted to have more days with Cas. He just didn’t really know how to ask for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They got back to the school a little ahead of the girls. Dean stopped the car and turned to Cas. “So...can I text you about coffee?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas blinked and finally looked at Dean. “You still want to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Dean’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I thought you were upset. About last night.” Cas hunched down a bit in his coat. “You didn’t talk on the way back...I thought you were angry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh...no.” Dean mentally cursed himself for making Cas think that. “No, I...last night was...it was…” He tried to articulate it. “It was hard watching you be that upset,” he finally said. “But I liked falling asleep with you and holding your hand...I just thought you were still upset about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean…” Cas took a moment, clearly as confused as Dean was about how to navigate this. “I am...upset. I was scared, and...and I didn’t mean to drag you into all my shit this early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugged. “Honestly? I’m glad you did...I mean, it sucks, but it’s probably better for me to know now than find out you’ve been hiding it from me six months from now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean.” Cas swallowed heavily. “I don’t know what you expect from me. But I...I don’t want to make you deal with all my damage. That’s not what you’re after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not after anything,” Dean said honestly. “I don’t expect anything from you. I just want to know you better.” He looked down a little. “And...it’s not like I don’t have damage of my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded slowly. “I would like to know you, too,” he said. “With or without damage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great.” Dean grinned at him. “So…can I get your number?” He passed his phone over. Cas programmed in the number, finishing just as the bus pulled in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should…” Cas gestured lamely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “I’ll text you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Cas got out of the Impala and went to get Claire. Dean watched him, smiling a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened and Emma got in, clearly tired, though she was smirking. “Hi, Dad,” she said sweetly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi yourself.” Dean started the car and backed out of the parking lot. “You have fun with your friends this weekend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So much fun,” Emma said. “We had hotel coffee mochas and played cards all night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome,” Dean said, smiling reminiscently. He remembered many long nights with Sam spent in similar activities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have fun with Mr. Novak?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean just about crashed the car. “We were both tired,” he said. “We went right to sleep...we’re too old to be out all day and then play cards all night anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” Emma looked extremely smug. “So you were just holding his hand all day as a friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sighed, wondering when his daughter had gotten so invested in his love life. “I’m taking him on a date another day,” he said. “So you and Claire can stop playing matchmaker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emma squealed and Dean knew he was soon going to regret telling her anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire was thankfully quiet on the walk home. Cas didn’t speak to her, still trying to process everything that had happened that weekend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean wanted to go on a date with him. Dean maybe wanted to date him after that. And that was after spending the entire weekend taking care of him, making sure Cas ate and stayed calm through the tournament, holding his hand and listening and learning way more about Cas’s past that he should have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even after that, Dean wanted to date him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas was smiling by the time they got home. Claire noticed at once. “Did you and Mr. Winchester have a good night?” she asked, just a bit of teasing in her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not exactly,” Cas said. “But we’re going on a date sometime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire shrieked and Cas flinched. “Claire, please,” he said. “I’m not over yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Uncle Cas--!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Claire!” Meg came out of the kitchen, looking a bit miffed. “What have we told you about indoor voices?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meg, Uncle Cas is going on a date!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg’s eyes lit up. “With Dean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sighed. “Yes, with Dean, I don’t know when, and we’re just having coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg didn’t shriek, thank God, but she did smile very wide. “Good,” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas hummed and headed for his art room. The weekend might have ended well, but he still needed time alone to recover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean had known Emma wouldn’t keep her mouth shut. He knew that she told everyone in the family about him and Cas going on a date, which was confirmed when he met Sam, Jo and Charlie for dinner for their monthly “no kids or grown-ups” dinner at Charlie’s apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finally,” Jo said, sitting down next to Dean with a beer bottle. She handed him a can of Coke with a grin. “It’s been too long since you’ve put yourself out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought you liked me hanging around,” Dean teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not when you’re moping. And you’ve been moping for three years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have not!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really have,” Charlie said from her chair. “My last six girlfriends have cited you being grumpy as the main reason they didn’t want to hang out with my family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because I’m going on a date doesn’t mean I won’t be grumpy,” Dean pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam laughed. “Dean, you already look happier than you have since the divorce,” he said. “I mean, there was a reason Ruby spent half her time with me introducing you to her girl friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and there’s a reason I didn’t date any of Ruby’s girl friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which was a good call, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re happier now,” Jo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugged, forcing himself not to blush. “You know,” he said. “When you’ve met someone you like and it’s new...that’s the part that always feels the best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All three of the others nodded in sympathy. Upon reflection, Dean thought it was rather odd that he was the one who’d had the most successful long-term relationship out of all of them. Sure, his marriage to Lisa had crashed and burned, but she at least still spoke to him, and that was after they got to the point they wanted to be married in the first place. But Charlie was too excitable to ever really settle down, Jo got annoyed with all the men she dated very quickly, and Sam…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, Sam had almost had a successful relationship. The problem was that it was with an emotional fuckwit who liked playing games with Sam’s heart more than she actually liked him. Then again, all of Sam’s relationships went like that. Which was weird, honestly. Sam was handsome, successful, responsible. Dean didn’t get how he kept winding up with so many toxic women.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, at least you know Cas somewhat,” Jo said. “You did just spend an entire weekend with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t a romantic thing,” Dean protested. “We were just there for the softball tournament.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was still seven hours in a car and two nights in a hotel,” Jo said. “And you two were looking pretty cozy during the games.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How cozy?” Charlie asked eagerly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were holding hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlie made an undignified cooing noise and Sam grinned. “Holding hands? That’s pretty intimate for you, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hand holding,” Dean said. “Jesus, Sam, you say it like we were boning right there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you? Yeah.” Sam’s smile slipped. “Dean, I know you. You don’t do romance or handholding. You don’t go on long walks or buy chocolates or do any of that shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How would you know?’ Dean asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s one of the many, many things Lisa complained about,” Sam said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so you were Lisa’s complaining board,” Dean muttered. “Is that why you wouldn’t be my divorce lawyer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean, we’ve been over this. That was a major conflict of interest and I was too new to the job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.” Dean waved his hand. “I know. But...I don’t know...this feels different. I feel like...like I want to do all the mushy crap with him. Not just love him and leave him...he doesn’t deserve that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam, Jo and Charlie all exchanged a look. “He’s in love,” Charlie said. “I knew it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not in love!” Dean protested. “I just like him and...and I want to treat him right. Cause I feel like no one ever has.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just wait,” Jo said. “It’s going to be love one of these days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas tried not to be too impatient to hear from Dean. He knew that Dean was busy, that he had a life and family, and that they had just spent nearly seventy-two hours together. He shouldn’t be too greedy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was still relieved when his phone buzzed three days after the tournament. He picked it up and smiled at the text.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Unknown number 2:34 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, it’s Dean.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel Novak 2:36 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hello Dean</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean Winchester 2:39 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You still up for coffee?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel Novak 2:40 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes. When and where?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean Winchester 2:43 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tomorrow, around ten? Josiah’s?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel Novak 2:35 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes. I will see you then.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean Winchester 2:47 PM</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Awesome</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas smiled wider and set the phone aside. He looked over the shards of glass on his desk, trying to see the shape they would form. For once, he wasn’t thinking about bees, though. His mind was on Dean, on how his hand felt when they fell asleep together. Cas reached for his paint, mixing cheerfully, trying to capture the exact shade of blue he needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg poked her head in around six. “Cas?” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Cas jerked out of his trance, looking at the shards of blue scattered across his table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dinner’s ready.” She stepped over and looked at the glass. “What are you contemplating?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean,” Cas said. “We’re going out tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s great,” Meg said. “Now come eat before you contemplate your way into falling asleep on broken glass. Again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Cas said. He got up and followed Meg to the kitchen. “By the way,” he asked. “What am I supposed to wear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean wasn’t nervous. He never got nervous about dates, not when he was young and wild, certainly not now that he was a mature adult. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this was different. This was Cas. And Dean didn’t know why, but it felt like it meant more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached the coffee shop right on time. Cas was already there, sitting by the window and looking scared. Dean went in and sat down across from him. “Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Dean.” Cas managed a smile. He looked a little more relaxed, his trenchcoat off for once, over the back of his chair. He was wearing a blue henley sweater and jeans, and he was so, so beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean waved the waitress over and they ordered. Cas fidgeted a bit, clearly nervous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So…” Dean said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So.” Cas shook his head a bit. “I’m sorry...I haven’t really...done this in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me, neither,” Dean said. “I mean…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were married,” Cas said. “And it failed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t say failed,” Dean said. “Failure implies that something went wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugged. “It’s usually bad form to talk about your ex on the first date.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I want to know,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas hesitated. “Because...this is probably wrong. But you know what coming into a relationship with me involves...I want to know what it’s like with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waitress came back with their coffee. Dean gave her a false smile and sipped at it for a moment. “So...you say my marriage failed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean...didn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...yes. But it’s not like we could have succeeded.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why couldn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess we met too young and moved too fast,” Dean said. “I mean...I was twenty-four, I already had a kid...we’d only dated a year before we got married, then we had a kid, and then...one day we woke up and realized we didn’t have any reason to be together anymore, besides Ben. And...she wanted things I couldn’t give her, so she left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas’s brow furrowed. “You thought twenty-four was a young age to be married?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? How young do you consider too young?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My elder brothers were all married by the time they were twenty-one...except Gabriel. He never wanted to settle down. They were all fathers very quickly after...it was their place in the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But not you,” Dean said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...no,” Cas said. “I tried...but...when I tried, it just...didn’t work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded. “But...you and Meg are still friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “She is...more than a friend. But we could never be lovers...she could never be my wife in the way she would want. And she should find someone else who loves her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just like you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas blinked. “Yes...yes. Like me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean smiled a bit. “Well then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were quiet for a moment, before Dean leaned forward. “So...tell me more about bees?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas’s eyes lit up. “Well...the process they use to make honey is fascinating…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stayed there for the next four hours. Cas talked about bees for almost an hour of it, his eyes bright and his voice fast and enthusiastic. Dean listened with a smile on his face, asking questions now and then. Once Cas ran out of steam on bees, he got Dean talking about his childhood again, travelling the midwest with his dad and brother. Dean talked about various misdeeds with Sam, and Cas told a few of his own stories about Jimmy, though he omitted most of the context and Dean didn’t ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean didn’t even realize how long they’d been there until Cas’s phone buzzed. Cas jumped about a mile. “Claire,” Cas said. “She’s ready to be picked up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sighed and nodded. “Okay.” He signalled the waitress for the bill. “We should do this again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “I’ll text you.” He reached into his coat for his wallet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got this,” Dean said. “Go get Claire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I invited you.” Dean smiled. “Another date is enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Cas smiled and got up. “I’ll see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean waved him off, smiling as well.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next month passed in a dream. Dean and Cas went on several dates, their relationship quickly becoming a steady one. They had dinner quite often, sometimes with Emma and Claire, sometimes just the two of them, but they had agreed to take it slow, just see each other for a while, nothing physical yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean tried not to be too clingy, but he did find himself wandering near Cas’s house when he had time. Cas was usually inside, but would come out if he saw Dean, and they walked around the parks a lot. It was open, and usually quiet, so it was the perfect place to take Cas. Dean hadn’t thought he liked so much quiet before, but with Cas, it felt...good. Peaceful. They did talk sometimes, but Dean was finding times of silence soothing as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was early in April when Dean was passing by again, hoping Cas might be available. To his surprise, Cas was outside, digging in the yard. Dean smiled and wandered over. “Hey, Cas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Dean.” Cas looked up, smiling. “You’re just in time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Planting.” Cas held up a bulb. “Native flowers, for my bees...I’m getting a hive in June.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded and stepped over. “Well...anything I can help with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Cas handed up a trowel. “Can you dig?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean knelt down and got started, following Cas’s very exact instructions. They were quiet as they worked, putting flowers in the ground. Cas had clearly planned this, and Dean was curious to see how the garden would look when it bloomed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finished in a little under half an hour. Cas turned, his face completely open and happy. “Come in,” he said. “Have some lemonade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” Dean followed Cas inside, a bit muddier than he’d expected but happy. “So...you do much gardening? Before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas paused at the fridge, looking down, smile slipping. “No,” he said. “When I was a child...I wasn’t allowed. And I didn’t have enough space in Omaha. But now...I want to make things grow. I want to see things live.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sounds nice,” Dean said. “Bees, garden...kid...it’s a good life. White picket fence and all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “And I just want to share that.” He looked over. “With you. If I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean swallowed. “Yeah,” he said. “That sounds good, just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Cas came back and handed Dean a glass. “We’re taking it slow. I’m not asking for you to...come live here or anything. Just...saying...in the future, I’d like to share this more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “Yeah...I’d like that too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas’s smile returned. “So did you just come to hang out?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “I always love time with you...but also, my Aunt Ellen’s spring barbeque is coming up, and I wanted to invite you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas blinked. “I...see,” he said. “Is it a large event?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just the family,” Dean said. “But...you and me, we’ve been officially dating for a month, and it will be two when that happens, and you haven’t really met my family yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have not,” Cas said. “And I would like to, it’s just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Dean said. “There’s a lot of them. But if it gets too much, we can find you a quiet room in the house, or if it’s really too much, it’s not too far to come home early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Cas said. “Can I bring Claire?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Dean said. “And Meg, if she wants to come.” He swallowed. “Um...Lisa and Ben usually come. It’s the only time Lisa really spends up here, but she’s good friends with Jo and Sam and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand,” Cas said. “I would like to meet her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?” Dean asked. “Only I know it might be awkward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s a part of your family,” Cas said. “She’s the mother of your son. She is going to be a part of your life...I will have to meet her eventually if I’m going to be part of it as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Dean said. “Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas was nowhere near ready for this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, he liked Dean, and he was glad that their relationship was going well enough that Dean wanted to introduce him to his family, but it was a very big step and a very big family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to be fine, Cas,” Meg said from the doorway to Cas’s room as he went through his clothes. “His family was just as eager to match you two as we were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was before they knew me,” Cas said. “What if they realize I’m...broken?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg rolled her eyes. “Cas, we’ve been over this. You aren’t broken. What they did to you isn’t who you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a part of me,” Cas said. “I know that Dean...he accepts most of my...eccentricities. But this isn’t just Dean anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but they are Dean’s family,” Meg said. “And you’ve already met some of them, and none of them have ever been anything but kind to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” Cas took a few deep breaths and finally chose a shirt that looked exactly like every other shirt in his mostly-casual wear drawer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides,” Meg added. “If you don’t go, Claire and I don’t go, and I want another crack at Dean’s brother.” She smirked. “You know...the tall one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean only has one brother. Sam.” Cas glared over his shoulder as he got changed. “And from what Dean told me, he’s not dating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least give me a chance to change his mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t offend my boyfriend’s family right out the gate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought that was my job,” Meg teased. “Come in to scandalize the family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I’ll behave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Cas finished getting ready. “Claire! Time to go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Harvelle house was easy to find, and the yard was big. Cas was glad of that; it meant he was less likely to feel crowded or trapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean spotted them at once and came over, grinning widely. “Hey, Cas.” He threw an easy arm around Cas’s shoulder. Cas blinked, but didn’t stiffen. It wasn’t too unusual for Dean to be affectionate, though he usually reserved it for private moments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meg, Claire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Mr. Winchester,” Claire said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean rolled his eyes. “Call me Dean, Claire.” He kept smiling, looking so at-ease. It was beautiful. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas tried very hard to keep track of the family tree. Coach Singer (“You call me Bobby here”) was Dean’s uncle, or possibly adoptive father, though Cas wasn’t able to clarify if they were actual blood relations. Sam was definitely Dean’s brother, and Jack was definitely Sam’s adoptive son, but Cas couldn’t quite figure out how Charlie had come into the picture (the best explanation Dean gave was “she followed me home and we kept her”). Jody was Bobby’s girlfriend, though they seemed to be headed toward marriage pretty quick (“At our age, you don’t waste time”). Ellen, much like Bobby, was referred to as Dean’s aunt, though Cas couldn’t discern any blood relationship, and Jo teased Dean and Sam like a sister or cousin would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas had just been introduced to everyone. Emma and Claire had taken Jack off to play a game (or at least throw a ball around). Meg had been drawn into a conversation with Charlie and Jo, and seemed both pleased and alarmed to be speaking to other women her own age. Cas was just starting to relax when another car pulled up and a very tall and beautiful woman stepped out, Ben following close behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry we’re late,” the woman called. “Traffic was hectic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” Ellen said, stepping over, beer bottle already in hand. “Got your favorite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Ellen.” The women kissed cheeks and the newcomer surrendered a covered dish to Ellen and whispered something that made Ellen laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that’s about me!” Dean called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman turned. “You think everything’s about you.” Her voice was fond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shook his head and tugged Cas’s hand, leading him over. “Lisa, I’d like you to meet Castiel Novak,” he said. “Cas, this is Lisa Braedon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa smiled. “So you’re Cas,” she said, offering her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Cas suddenly understood what Dean had meant when he said this might be awkward. He managed to let go of Dean and shake Lisa’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you,” she said. “Ben talks about you a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Cas tried to come up with the right reply. “I have heard a lot about you...Dean and Ben both speak very fondly of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa smiled widely and Cas breathing a sigh of relief to know he’d said the right thing. “That’s good to hear,” she said. “And I am glad he’s found someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded. Luckily, Bobby called over that dinner was ready, which spared him from engaging in any more conversation right then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner was good, if rather loud, everyone at the table eager to talk to everyone else. Cas did his best to keep up, though he knew he didn’t contribute as much as he should have. Still, he wasn’t panicking or overwhelmed, so he figured he was doing pretty well at this. At any rate, neither Dean nor Meg felt the need to intervene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After dinner, the kids drew most of the adults into a game of softball, though Cas begged off. Dean looked faintly worried, but Cas smiled and waved him off. He was fine, just not up to any strenuous activity. He was content to sit on the porch and watch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his surprise, Lisa sat down next to him. Cas didn’t turn to look at her, but he did nod in acknowledgment of her presence. “Not much of a softball player?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They have enough people over there,” Lisa said. “Though I wouldn’t have thought your roommate would be a very sporty type of girl.” She nodded to where Meg was hovering around second base.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe not softball,” Cas said. “She’s more the mixed martial arts type.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa laughed. “No kidding?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No...something about wanting to destroy anyone who hit on her too aggressively in a bar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like my kind of girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded slowly. “She’s sort of everyone’s kind of girl. But she has a pretty specific kind of boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were quiet for a minute, Lisa drinking a beer, Cas just watching the mayhem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant what I said,” Lisa said. “I think you’re really good for Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas blinked in surprise. “You barely know me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but I know him.” Lisa sighed, leaning back a bit. “Probably better than anyone except Sam. And Dean...he’s a good guy, really. He’s great with Emma and Ben, and he’s loyal to a fault. Even now, if I asked him for help, he’d drop everything to do it, no questions asked. He’ll do everything he can for everyone around him, every time...he would spend his entire life saving the world if he had the opportunity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Cas finally turned to look at her. “So what’s the bad part?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re very direct.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have never understood why people don’t just say what they want. If I want to know something, it’s better to just ask...though that makes people angry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lisa laughed. “Suppose that makes sense.” She set the empty beer bottle down and leaned on her knees. “Dean...he has a temper. It’s better since he stopped drinking, but it’s there, and if there’s someone who deserves it, they will feel it. I can’t imagine that would ever be you, but you should be prepared for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he violent?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never toward me or the kids...but he did get into a lot of fights when he was younger. And if he’s determined to fight someone, you can’t stop  him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded. “If he doesn’t hurt me or Claire, I can live with that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay...and...part of wanting to save the entire world is that Dean will put all of his energy into helping literally everyone but himself. He will give and give and give and it would never occur to him to keep anything for himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas smiled a bit. “I think he thinks he’s supposed to take care of me,” he said. “And now you’re telling me I’m supposed to take care of him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all,” Lisa said. “I mean...if you can help him, that would be nice, but don’t burn yourself out trying. I just wanted to warn you...he can be a lot to deal with sometimes. He’ll need reminders to slow down and rest, and sometimes he needs to be talked out of something stupid. Sam and Bobby usually handle that, but they’re busy too. So...just be aware of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for telling me,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope you don’t think I’m trying to...warn you off or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I asked...and it’s not like I don’t come with my share of issues.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but…” Lisa sighed. “Well...none of it’s his fault, not really...his dad...he fucked Dean and Sam up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean mentioned that his father was...unpleasant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s putting it mildly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ve met him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Once or twice...Dean doesn’t want him around the kids, and he has good reason for it. John...I don’t think he was physically abusive, but he gave Dean a very specific mindset about what being a man is, and...Dean’s never quite got past that. He’s trying, and he’s gotten a lot better raising a girl by himself but...well. The only way he knows how to handle anger is with a fight and the only way he handles everything else is to push it down until it explodes. And good luck getting him to go to therapy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know the type,” Cas said. “And I can handle that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence for the rest of the evening, watching the others out in the field until it was late and time to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A week later, Dean was passing Cas’s house again on his day off, thinking he might see if Cas wanted to go out. To his surprise, he found Meg in the driveway, leaning over the engine of her car. Even from behind, Dean could see the frustration in her frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, Meg,” he called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jumped and turned. “Oh...hi, Dean.” Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, her face was smudged with oil, and she looked generally less beautiful and put-together than normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Car trouble?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, it still runs,” Meg said. “But it’s been rattling and I couldn’t justify spending six hundred dollars on it if I can just find what’s loose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how’s that working?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg half-glared. “Not well,” she muttered. “I don’t know how engines work...but I’m better at it than Cas, anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want me to take a look?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed. “Sure, why not?” She stepped back and handed Dean the wrench. He leaned over, tinkering with parts for a few minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Turn it on,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did and Dean watched it for a moment before he signaled her to kill the engine. A few tightened bolts later, he waved again and she turned it on. Dean watched it a moment before he nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That should hold it,” he said once Meg had turned the car off and joined him again. “At least for a few more months...but if you have trouble, bring it over to Bobby’s and I’ll get you a friends and family discount.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you’re Cas’s family,” Dean said. “And I hope Cas can be part of my family, so...that means you as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg looked down, leaning on the car. Dean’s brow furrowed. “Meg?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You promise?” she whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in her tone made Dean stand up straight. “Yeah,” he said. “Why? Do you expect me to just...abandon him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg studied him a long moment. “Come inside,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean followed her, confused. Meg took him into the kitchen and started making coffee, almost automatically. Dean glanced around. “Is Cas even here?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Meg said. “He had to take Claire to the dentist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded. Meg was quiet until the coffee was done. She poured two cups and pushed one to Dean. He sipped it gingerly; Cas bought really good coffee but Meg always brewed it way too strong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much has Cas told you about his family?” Meg asked suddenly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um...not much,” Dean said. “I know there were a lot of them, and he was treated really badly when he was a kid, but...he didn’t give me much detail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He never does,” Meg agreed. “He hasn’t even told me everything...I mean, I’ve put some pieces together, but I don’t know exactly what they did to him. I just know...I know they hurt him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not broken,” Dean said fiercely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Meg said. “He’s not...and I don’t want you to think...I don’t want you to leave because of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t,” Dean promised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg nodded. “So...Cas’s parents were Evangelical Fundamentalists. And I’m not talking the normal flavor. I’m talking the scary cult kind...you know, the ones who think all science is a hoax, illness is best cured with prayer and being gay is a mental illness that people choose. And what couldn’t be prayed away was beaten out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t sound like a good place for someone like Cas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No...I can’t say if he got the worst of it, but I know it was bad for him, especially after his mom died. When I met him, he was barely a shell of a man...it took months of work before he was able to have a conversation without panicking. And he spent the first year I knew him trying so hard to be straight...and believe me when I say that was painful for both of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But...you helped him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve done my best,” Meg said. “And he’s a lot better now...but that’s after a good decade of hard work on both our parts.” She sipped the coffee, looking far away. “I’m glad he’s putting himself out there,” she said. “And I’m glad you’re with him...he’s more comfortable with you than he’s been with anyone since Jimmy died. And I know you want to take care of him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he’s been hurt a lot. He’s been chewed up and spit out by the entire world, and everyone who didn’t abuse him either died or abandoned him. Right now, he’s functioning and mostly happy. That falls apart easily for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean...I’ve already seen that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No...you haven’t. You saw a few mild panic attacks over a stressful weekend. You haven’t experienced what happens when Cas breaks. And it’s...it’s scary, and it’s difficult, and figuring out what to do is almost impossible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there an instruction manual?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really...and Cas isn’t a robot. And he doesn’t need to be taken care of...he’s a capable adult, and he can look after himself fine. He just...has trouble sometimes. And I want you to be ready for it...because if he needs help, you’re going to be the one giving it to him from now on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound like you’re giving him away at a wedding,” Dean joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that,” Meg admitted. “Though...maybe not quite. More like he’s a lost baby bird that I’m letting loose in the wild.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Dean said. “I can’t promise much. But I’m not going to hurt him...and even if...if things don’t work out...I won’t abandon him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat quietly for a few minutes. “What about you?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg blinked. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean...you’ve been...not taking care of Cas, but living with him for God knows how long...what will you do once the lost baby bird is back in the wild?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. “I’ve got a good job here,” she said. “And since the Asshole Garrison managed to track us to Omaha, I’m not too eager to go back there...they’ve always hated me for corrupting Cas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The...what garrison?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Asshole Garrison...it’s what I call Cas’s family. He managed to shake them after college, but then Jimmy died and some well-meaning police officer or social worker or lawyer let them know...luckily, Cas got warning and was able to move Claire up here before they got there, but I stayed to throw them off the track and followed once they were gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg’s face hardened. “Jimmy was very careful to never let any of them meet Claire...and Cas won’t go back on that. If any of them ever show up here, Cas and Claire will be gone within the hour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t imagine social services likes that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas is Claire’s guardian. He can take her wherever he likes, as long as no one reports him as an unfit parent...and if you’re lucky, he’ll tell you where he’s going, though whether you follow him is your choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I’ll just hope they never show up.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean wasn’t sure how to approach Cas after his conversation with Meg, though he knew he needed to. After all, he had promised not to abandon Cas, and he wouldn’t have even if he hadn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his surprise, Cas began the conversation. They were out in the garden, weeding and watering the flowers. Dean was surprised by how much he enjoyed working in the garden with Cas, but it was good, dirty work, and Cas always seemed so happy and at peace out here, so Dean was content to spend hours working on it while the girls played in the backyard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I spoke to Lisa,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean...I noticed,” Dean said. “Nothing bad I hope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not...bad,” Cas said. “But she did tell me some things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Dean looked down at the dirt, pretending to focus on the weeds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of it has changed my mind,” Cas said. “But it’s only fair that you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded. “I talked to Meg, too,” he said. “And...yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I expect she told you everything she knows,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “Is there anything more you want to tell me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sat back on his heels, staring ahead like he always did when he was thinking. “No,” he finally said. “At least...not now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t scare me off,” Dean said. “And if you’re worried about your blood relatives…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not...that’s not why,” Cas said. “I haven’t shared the details with anyone...not even Jimmy knew everything. I’m just not ready to…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “Okay...I get it. And you don’t have to tell me. But...just know you can. If you want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep it in mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finished their work in their usual comfortable silence. “Will you stay for dinner?” Cas asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Dean said. “It’s either stay here or go home and eat frozen pizza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope I can do slightly better than that...especially since Meg’s working late and will need something that keeps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded and followed Cas into the house to wash up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dinner was fairly typical, Dean and Cas and Claire and Emma, sitting around the table as a family. It struck Cas how quickly this had become normal, but it felt right. He could imagine years of dinners like this, with their own little family, and he almost ached at how nice it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After dinner, Cas invited Dean and Emma to stay and watch a movie with them, so they did. The girls laid on the floor, whispering and giggling. Dean and Cas sat on the couch, very close together. After several minutes, Dean wrapped his arm around Cas. Cas glanced at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it okay?” Dean whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. He leaned into Dean, head on his shoulder, curling into him with a small smile. And it was so, so good, to be sitting here like this, cuddled up to Dean, even though Cas had a feeling Dean would ever admit to being a cuddler. Cas hoped that, even if Dean never said it out loud, they would have a lot more times like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was late when the movie finished and the girls had both fallen asleep on the floor. Dean stretched a little and sighed. “Seems a shame to wake them,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They cannot sleep on the floor,” Cas whispered. “We should at least get them into a bed...or couch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean blinked. “Are you...inviting us to stay?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas grew hot. “I mean...they don’t have school tomorrow, and it’s late for you to be walking home with a tired girl. So...if you want…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dean said. “Um...what do you want from me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing...indiscrete,” Cas said. “Not with them in the house. But...that night after the tournament...it was nice, sleeping next to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “It was.” He got up and managed to lift Emma, even though she wasn’t really too much smaller than Dean anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas stood as well. He had a slightly easier time moving Claire. She did stir a little as he carried her down the hall to her room. “Dad?” she whispered sleepily as he put her down on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas had to close his eyes, forcing back tears. “Go back to sleep, Claire,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mkay.” Claire turned over and curled up. “Love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas leaned over and kissed her temple. “Love you too.” He turned off her light and went back down the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean had gotten Emma up on the couch. Cas found some spare blankets for her, and Dean tucked her in and dropped a small kiss on her forehead. He stepped back and he and Cas just stood there a moment, making sure she was comfortable, before Cas took Dean’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” he said. “I should have some sweatpants that will fit you if you don’t want to wear jeans to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas took Dean down the hall to his room and found the promised sweats. Dean ducked into the bathroom to change, leaving Cas to get his breathing under control and change his own clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He only had a few minutes, but he did reasonably well and sat down on the bed. Dean returned a few minutes later, and he should not have looked that good wearing Cas’s sweatpants and nothing else. Cas held out his hand, inviting. Dean came over and took it, just sitting next to Cas for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure you’re okay with this?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “I mean...I only have one couch and if you take Meg’s bed, she will kick you out of it as soon as she gets home. And I’ve heard many times from Bobby that your back is bad enough without you sleeping on a floor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough.” They sat there a moment, hands clasped. Dean had started rubbing circles on Cas’s hand, an unconscious habit now, and while Cas was perfectly calm, it was a welcome gesture. “Um,” Dean said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I kiss you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looked at Dean a long moment. They hadn’t kissed before, hadn’t even offered, but... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean turned and tipped Cas’s chin up a bit. They stayed there, an inch apart, before Dean finally closed the distance, pressing his mouth over Cas’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas had never understood what people meant about forever-kisses before. Then again, the only person Cas had ever kissed before was Meg, and that didn’t really count. Physical contact between boys and girls had always been forbidden before marriage when Cas was a child, and the idea of kissing another boy back then was laughable. But this...this was what people must mean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean was warm, his lips slightly chapped, one hand on Cas’s neck, the other still rubbing slow circles. Cas pressed closer, kissing back, his spare hand landing on Dean’s knee. It was a slightly awkward position, but Cas didn’t want it to end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, though, they broke apart. Dean was breathing heavily, his eyes wide. Cas stared at him, unsure of what he should do next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was that correct?” Cas asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “Fuck, Cas...that was awesome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Dean kissed him again, softer now, and he pulled away more quickly. “If you hadn’t said no hanky-panky with the girls here…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll save that for another time,” Cas promised. “Right now, it’s late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kissed one more time before they lay down in the bed, still holding hands. Cas turned off the light, but he still lay awake for a long time, just watching Dean as he drifted off to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Castiel!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The ruler slapped across his hand. Castiel yelped in pain, the back of his hands going red.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’ve let go of your prayers!” Another strike, hard brown eyes boring into his. “You’ve forgotten everything I tried to teach you!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel cringed back, tears running down his cheeks. That just earned another hit from the ruler.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Boys don’t cry, Castiel. And boys don’t kiss other boys or let them sleep in their beds!” More strikes, faster now, up and down his hands and arms. “Faggot! Devil child!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>More voices joined in, screaming insults and slurs at him. The pain wasn’t just in his hands and arms now, but running up and down his body, blows everywhere. He could hear all of them, his father, his brothers, Miss Naomi, all hitting him, screaming at him, and he felt sick...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas jerked awake, with weight on his chest. His eyes snapped open the moment he noticed the pressure, and it took a moment for his heart to stop pounding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean had shifted in the night and was lying half on Cas’s chest, his arm around Cas’s waist. Cas closed his eyes and took several calming breaths, willing himself not to panic. It was just Dean. Dean, who had stayed last night, and kissed him, and who was apparently a lot more cuddly than Cas had thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shifted a bit. “Cas?” he said quietly. “You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “Sorry...just...wasn’t expecting.” He opened his eyes and gestured vaguely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean blinked sleepily then sat up. “Oh, shit,” he said. “I’m sorry, Cas, I know you didn’t want…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean. It’s fine.” Cas sat up as well. “It was nice...I just didn’t realize you’d moved until I woke up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean bit his lip. “You sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, just rolled over. That wasn’t your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your heart is racing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a nightmare...nothing to do with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes...it’s not your fault, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Dean still didn’t look too sure, but he clearly wanted to drop the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas hesitated, then reached out and pulled Dean close, lying down again in their previous position. Dean’s breath hitched, but he resettled, lying on Cas’s shoulder, his hand on Cas’s chest. Cas closed his eyes again, letting himself get used to the feeling of having Dean in his arms. It was strange, but it was something Cas wanted to get used to. He had been forcing himself not to enjoy things for so long...it was time he tried again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was halfway back to sleep, and he was pretty sure Dean was too, when there was a tiny knock on the door. Cas sighed; he had almost forgotten there were other people in the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean groaned, but rolled off him. Cas got up and opened the door halfway, keeping himself between it and Dean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire looked up at him. “Uncle Cas, we’re out of eggs. And milk,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas closed his eyes; he had meant to go shopping today and had not planned on having extra people around for breakfast. “Right,” he said. “Give me a minute and then we can go get something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire didn’t move. “Why was Emma on the couch?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two fell asleep and it was too late for Dean to take her home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A smirk started forming on Claire’s face. “Is Dean still here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. And he’s still asleep, so don’t make too much noise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Claire turned and headed back for the living room, still smirking. Cas sighed, knowing that he and Dean would be living with those looks for the rest of the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed the door and went to get clothes. “Dean,” he called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five more minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean, the girls are awake and need breakfast and I haven’t shopped this week. You can either come with us or keep sleeping and starve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean groaned again, but he did roll over and get out of bed, grabbing his clothes from the day before. Cas turned away, a bit embarrassed. “I can find you something clean,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, it’s fine,” Dean said. “Though this will be the first walk of shame I’ve done in front of Emma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it a walk of shame if we didn’t have sex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean considered. “Nah, guess not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. I don’t want to feel ashamed anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah...yeah, shame’s not good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They dressed with their backs turned to each other. Cas was blushing furiously the whole time, but he managed to keep himself calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They found Emma and Claire in the living room, eating dry cereal and looking extremely tragic, though they both started smirking when Dean and Cas appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Dean said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t say anything,” Emma said sweetly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to and I don’t want to hear it...not until I’ve had coffee, anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is Meg still asleep?” Cas asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Claire said. “Does this mean Emma’s my sister now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas’s brow furrowed. “Why would it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cause you and Dean are…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to be your sister!” Emma said. Claire beamed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call it what you want,” Dean said. “Right now, we all need food, and I need a lot of coffee. Shoes on, everyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean didn’t expect it to become a habit. But damn, sleeping next to Cas...and sometimes on Cas...was really, really good. Dean had forgotten in the last three years what it meant to fall asleep next to someone he cared about, and now that he remembered, he never wanted to stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed that Cas felt the same way. They set aside a few nights a week to spend at one house or the other. The girls were thrilled with this, both because it indicated Dean and Cas’s relationship was growing more serious, and because it meant they got to spend a lot of time together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There still wasn’t anything going on, in spite of the girls’ giggling and Meg’s knowing smirks and all the teasing from Dean’s siblings. It was all worth it, to have more time with Cas, not just going on dates but starting to live together. Maybe not full time, they weren’t ready for that, but it was still enough for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially since it let Cas relax a lot more. Not being in public made it easier to control the amount of noise and chaos around them. It meant Cas could be in his safe home, and that he could start carving out places of safety in Dean’s home as well. It meant they could spend more hours together, talking or being silent. Cas would do his art, Dean would work on the cars, the girls would play and gossip, and it was…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the best thing Dean had had in a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>School had ended for the summer, which allowed them to spend more time together, even moving between two homes. Dean still had to work, but Cas had offered to let Emma come over to his house during the day, since he worked from home and she’d be more entertained hanging out with Claire than she would be if she was left with Ellen or Charlie as she had been in years past. Dean worried for a brief moment that the women might be offended by this, but Ellen quickly put that thought to rest, one Friday evening when Dean asked about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emma’s going to be thirteen soon,” she pointed out. “She doesn’t need constant supervision anymore. She’ll be a lot happier running around with her friends than she’ll be here, and as long as her phone’s on and Cas knows where they are, that’s good enough for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides,” Charlie added from Ellen’s couch, where she was working on something on her laptop. “If something happens and Cas can’t find them, I can track their phones pretty easily. Or the security footage all over town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean surrendered to their good sense pretty easily. He trusted Cas, and if Cas failed, he definitely trusted Charlie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when Dean wasn’t working, well, it was nice to walk with Cas, the girls either wandering behind them or off somewhere else. Dean didn’t know how he deserved this, but he was so, so lucky to have it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad!” Emma came barging into the kitchen, Claire on her heels. Dean and Cas had been cooking dinner in silence, enjoying a quiet afternoon, though they both knew that had just come to an end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up, sassy spice?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We just saw Chrissy Chambers,” Emma said. “You know, our catcher? And she’s having a slumber party next week and wants us to come.” She waved a paper, no doubt an invitation. “Can we go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t see why not,” Dean said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uncle Cas?” Claire gave Cas very big eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looked uncomfortable, clearly against the idea but with no good reason to say no. “I’ll want to meet her parents first,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her parents are great,” Dean said. “Her dad does all the team fundraisers and her mom’s a social worker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still want to meet them.” Cas half-glared at Dean. Dean raised his hands in surrender. “But I’m sure it will be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girls squealed happily and scampered off. “Wash up for dinner!” Dean yelled after them. Once they were out of earshot, he looked back at Cas. “You’re not okay with it, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sighed. “I’m told it’s something normal,” he said. “But...well. You can imagine that was not part of my childhood. And I know Claire’s in no danger, but I can’t help but worry about her being away from me overnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s close by,” Dean said. “If there’s an emergency, we can get to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides,” Dean added. “Girls out for an entire night?” He grinned, trying not to look too lascivious and failing. “Sounds like a good time for you and me to get some alone time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas swallowed heavily. “That is...a good argument,” he said, but his voice was very uncertain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t have to do anything,” Dean said. “I mean...if you just want to cuddle, or not even come over…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No...I want to,” Cas said. He glanced down the hall. “I’ll make sure she’ll be safe,” he said. “And if she is...I want to spend time with you. Alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome.” Dean smiled, trying to deny how much his heart was pounding at the idea of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas did end up approving Claire to go to the party. Dean tried not to be too elated about it, but it was difficult. This was the first night he’d get to spend entirely alone with Cas, and he was really looking forward to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They took the girls to Chrissy’s together. Emma and Claire were at least too excited about the party to make snide comments to their guardians, and dropping them off was done without much fuss. Cas still looked rather nervous about leaving Claire, but he had made his decision and wouldn’t go back on it now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure about this?” Dean asked as they watched the girls go into the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “She deserves a chance to be normal.” He took a deep breath. “Let’s go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yours or mine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yours...Meg’s not working tonight and she made it clear she didn’t want to see me until morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded and turned them toward home. Cas seemed calm enough when they got in, so Dean set about getting dinner without mentioning anything else. There was a lot of tension in the air, electrifying tension, but Dean didn’t want to rush this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sat at the table, looking straight ahead, and Dean let him be. He had learned over the last few months that when Cas was thinking, it was best not to disturb him. Dean just slid a plate in front of him and waited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Cas shook himself out of his reverie and picked up his fork. “You okay?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas said. “I’m just...still adjusting to the idea that you want me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do,” Dean said. “You’re beautiful, Cas. You’re smart, and you’re a great dad...and you’re so talented, and dedicated to everything you do...why wouldn’t I want you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a lot of reasons,” Cas said. “But you don’t want to hear them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean considered for a moment. “You’re right,” he said. “I don’t. Cause all the things you’re thinking are bullshit. I want you here, Cas. With me. And we can do whatever you want, or nothing at all, and I’ll still want you here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finished dinner in silence, washed the dishes standing very close together, and then…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Dean was leading Cas to his bedroom. He closed the door, more out of habit than necessity, and turned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So...what do you want?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I’m not sure,” Cas admitted. “I know I want to be near you...and...and I want to try. But I don’t...I’ve never…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...not even with Meg?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas shook his head. “We tried...once. It was bad. And...it’s different. With...with men. Isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “But some parts are the same.” He stepped closer. “So...why don’t I show you some stuff and if you want to stop, just say so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean pulled Cas in his arms and kissed him deeply. They had kissed several times over the last few weeks, but not like this. Not deep and dirty with the promise of more. Cas gasped, opening to it, his arms around Dean’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They broke apart slowly, both reluctant to stop. Dean carefully pulled Cas to the bed, lying him down gently, so gently, kissing him again. Cas couldn’t stop the small noise that passed his lips. Dean’s hands moved, petting him through his clothes, and Cas could feel his body light up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This good?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Cas breathed. He let his own hands wander, over Dean’s back and hips, learning the general shape of him. Dean’s mouth moved down to his neck, trailing kisses over the pale expanse. He didn’t bite, didn’t do anything but kiss him, feeling the soft skin under his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I undress you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas breathed deep. “Yes,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean unbuttoned his shirt slowly. Cas kept his eyes closed, breathing deep. Dean pushed the shirt off and looked down at Cas’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas’s mouth twisted. “I should have warned you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No...no, Cas, it’s...I’m sorry.” Dean sat back and Cas opened his eyes. Dean barely noticed, looking at Cas. He was a little softer than Dean had expected, and very pale, and... “This shouldn’t have happened to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looked down at his chest. There were still scars there, faded, sure, but still noticeable, lines and dots of white against his skin. And Dean...Dean couldn’t feel anything in that moment but overwhelming sadness and anger that anyone had dared lay hands on Cas like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean…” Cas swallowed. “Do you...still want…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dean said. “Are you okay with me touching them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas thought for a little while. “I think so,” he said. “I mean...if you want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Dean leaned over him again, kissed his mouth gently, then moved down, over Cas’s neck, to his chest. He kissed every scar, as though trying to heal them. Cas whimpered. Dean glanced up. “Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s good,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded, still moving his mouth over Cas. He tried not to identify where the scars had come from, tried not to imagine what had happened to lead to them. He just tried to show Cas that it was over, that he was loved, that Dean wanted to help him, care for him…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean reached the top of Cas’s jeans and paused, looking up. Cas was lying still, eyes closed, breath fast. “Cas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Cas’s eyes snapped open and he looked at Dean. “I don’t...it feels...good but...but…” His breathing got faster and he put a hand over his mouth, as though he was about to be sick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sat up at once. “Cas, what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas shook his head, sitting up next to him. Dean wasn’t sure what was happening or what had caused it, though he had the feeling he had done something very, very wrong. Cas sat there, clearly struggling to breathe. “Cas, talk to me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he got was a pained sort of whimper. Cas started rocking back and forth, and there were tears starting now, sobs cutting through the shallow breaths. Dean realized quickly that this was becoming a full panic attack and he had no idea what to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas, breathe. Please.” Dean reached out for Cas’s hand. Cas jerk, falling to the floor and scrambling away from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t,” Cas whispered. “It’s wrong, it’s a sin, I can’t be like that, I have to be good, they’ll kill me if I’m not…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, Cas.” Dean didn’t move closer, just held out his hands. “No one’s going to hurt you...we don’t have to do anything else. We can just stop here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas didn’t seem to hear him, still rocking, clutching at his hair as though trying to make himself smaller. Dean glanced around desperately, but he didn’t have anything in the room that might help. “Cas, I need your phone,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas didn’t move. Dean got up and left the room, looking around frantically. He spotted Cas’s phone on the kitchen counter and grabbed it, hitting the emergency dialer. He breathed in relief to see Meg listed there and hit the call button at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She picked up quickly. “Cas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meg, it’s Dean...I don’t know what happened, but Cas is having a panic attack and I can’t get him to calm down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Curled up in a corner of my room...he’s pretty out of it.” He swallowed. “I know there’s no instruction manual, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate to ask this, but how strict is your sobriety?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very strict, I don’t have any alcohol in the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you use anything else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No...the only thing I’ve got is Tylenol.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay...I’ll be there in five minutes. Try to get him to breathe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Dean hung up and went back to the bedroom. Cas was still rocking and muttering to himself, sobs occasionally coming through. He definitely wasn’t breathing very well. Dean knelt down a few feet away. “Cas? Can you hear me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No response, just little whispers, and then Dean realized that Cas had started scratching at his own wrists, deep, hard scratches, raising welts. “Hey...don’t do that.” Dean reached out and grabbed Cas’s wrists, holding his hands apart. Cas made another pained sound, but he didn’t fight the hold. Dean closed his eyes, fighting his own tears. He needed to stay calm. “Cas, breathe. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t think Cas could understand him, really, but he kept trying, speaking soothing words, trying to get Cas to hear him. His thumbs started circling on Cas’s wrists, trying to give him something soothing. It did seem to help a little; Cas’s breathing evened out, though he still looked far away and was still crying and muttering to himself. Dean couldn’t even make out the words anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg arrived just a few minutes later; she knew where Dean kept the key and she let herself in at once. “Dean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In here,” he called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She appeared and moved to them, kneeling next to Dean. She glanced down at where Dean was still holding Cas’s wrists and shook her head. “Good call,” she muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has he done that before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes...you’re lucky it was just his wrists this time and not his face.” She pulled a bottle out of her pocket. “Castiel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas turned and looked at her; clearly her voice was easier to hear than Dean’s right now. She handed him a pill and he took it automatically. Dean watched as Cas’s breathing slowed, calmed, and then Cas was falling forward into Dean’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” Dean asked, catching Cas and holding him close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emergency sedative,” Meg said. “Over the counter but very effective.” She took Cas’s wrist and felt his pulse for a minute. “Do you need help moving him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, probably.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Together, they lifted Cas up to the bed. He didn’t move at all, and Dean figured that the sedative was probably the best thing for him. Meg checked his breathing, then motioned to Dean to leave the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They returned to the kitchen. Dean started making coffee automatically, though his own heart was still racing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Meg asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Dean said. “One minute, we were...you know...getting somewhere...next minute, he’s panicking and looking like he’s about to puke.” He swallowed heavily. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chances are, you did everything right,” Meg said. “I don’t know if he’s afraid of sex in general or if it’s all his internalized homophobia, but there are times when even talking about sex will set him off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just...I wanted to make him feel loved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do. This just happens when you love someone like him...and you just have to learn how to live with it. I don’t recommend sedating him every time, but...you’ll find ways to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded and poured the coffee. They sat there for a long moment, both clearly exhausted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what do we do now?” Dean asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let him sleep,” Meg said. “I’ll pick up the girls tomorrow, and...you two can talk this out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “Yeah, okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg left an hour later after checking in on Cas. He was still asleep, looking peaceful for now. Dean debated for a long time before sitting down in a chair next to the bed. He knew he couldn’t lie with Cas right now, but he also couldn’t leave him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean did eventually fall asleep in the chair, and woke with a crick in his neck and his back and hips aching. He glanced over at the bed and started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas was gone. Dean got up at once and headed for the kitchen. “Cas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kitchen was empty, the only sign that anyone had been there the coffee cups from the night before. “Cas!” Dean sprinted to the living room and spotted a paper on the coffee table. He picked it up. It was a note, on hotel stationary, written with the pen Dean was always losing under the couch</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry about what happened. I know I’m not what you want; don’t worry, I won’t bother you anymore.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I realize now that I can’t be a good boyfriend to you, or father to Claire. I’ve left town; Meg will take better care of Claire than I ever could.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m so sorry for everything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stared at the note for a long moment before he swore, shoving his shoes on. He ran all the way to Cas’s house, not pausing for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg looked up as Dean came barrelling into the house. “Dean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s gone,” Dean said. He held out the note. “Meg...he’s run away.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Where would he go?” Dean asked. “You said that if he had to leave, he’d be gone in an hour...so where would he run to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meg shook her head. “He never really...planned where he was going,” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay…” Dean tried to sort through his racing thoughts. Thankfully, Sam had agreed to get Claire and Emma, so he didn’t have to worry about that right now. “He’s completely no contact with his family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Totally...if he went back to Chattanooga, you’ll never find him again, but I don’t think he would.” Meg paused. “Wait...there are two of his brothers he still talks to...Gabriel and Balthazar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which ones are they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gabriel is the third eldest...and the only one I have any sort of respect for. Balthazar’s the youngest and a bit of a douchebag, but a non-abusvie douchebag. If Cas was to go to anyone, it would be one of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great,” Dean said. “Where are they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the problem,” Meg said. “The Asshole Garrison didn’t give up on Gabriel as easily as they gave up on Cas and Jimmy...probably because Gabriel beat them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beat them? Physically?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, in court...Gabriel got custody of Balthazar when the kid was twelve...nasty case, dragged on for years. But the Asshole Garrison has never given up on chasing them, so they’ve been moving constantly for the last twelve years. Cas usually knows where they are, but he doesn’t tell me...he never tells me. It took me months to track him here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...luckily, he took his phone.” Dean breathed a little easier. “And luckily, my sister can find anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it?” Charlie said. “You tell me it’s an emergency and you just need me to find a phone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said. “I mean...I know you can do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah,” Charlie said. “But normally you’re asking me to change lottery numbers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charlie, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay.” Charlie started typing at once. Dean let her be; he knew the best way to get Charlie to work her best was to just let her do it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take her very long; for Charlie, finding a cell phone was the easiest thing in the world. “Here you go,” she said. “Saint Paul, Minnesota...here’s the last tower it pinged off.” She scribbled down some coordinates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks...is there a Gabriel or Balthazar Novak near it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s see…” Charlie started typing again. “Nothing coming up for Novak...but there is a Gabe Loki nearby. That sounds fake enough for someone who’s trying to avoid their Westboro family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got an address?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep.” Charlie added it to the paper. “It’s a four hour drive...you want company?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah,” Dean said. “If we’re right, Cas will be coming back with me and...and I don’t want to overwhelm him. And no offense, Charlie, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I talk too much,” she said. “Yeah, I know.” She gave Dean a small smile. “Go on...go get him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Dean took the paper. “Do me a favor, call Garth and let him know to cover my shifts for the next couple days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure thing...but you get to tell Bobby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think this is a...forgiveness thing, more than permission.” Dean kissed Charlie on the cheek and headed out to his car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean drove as fast as he could. He only stopped once for gas, taking the bare minimum amount of time for it. It didn’t occur to him to eat, or do anything but drive and sip quickly cooling coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was late afternoon by the time he reached the address Charlie had given him. Dean stopped the car and looked up at the house, hoping they were right. Hoping that Cas was here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean took a deep breath and went to the door. He rang the bell, heart pounding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It opened after a few minutes. The man on the other side was very normal looking, average height, forgettable face, long-ish hair. He leaned on the doorjamb, eyebrows raised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Dean said. “Um...are you Gabriel Novak?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man changed immediately. He stood up straight, his face going very still. “Who sent you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one,” Dean said. “I’m Dean Winchester...I...I’m trying to find Castiel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel relaxed. “Oh...so you’re Dean.” He looked him up and down. “Gotta say, I’m not impressed...Castiel made you sound like some sort of paragon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well,” Dean forced a smile. “I’m just a mechanic from Sioux Falls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not what I’d choose for him...but I guess you came all this way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at the moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know when he’ll be back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Castiel...he’ll come back when he’s ready.” Gabriel sighed. “You’d better come in...you should know about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean followed Gabriel into the house. It was small, and a bit messy, but it seemed comfortable enough. “Listen, Gabe…” Dean began. “Last time I saw Cas, he didn’t look so good and…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Castiel is fine,” he said. “Balthazar followed him...keeping an eye on him from a distance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” Dean sat down on the broken down couch carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drink?” Gabriel asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Dean said. “No, I’m...still on the wagon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coffee, then,” Gabriel said. “You need to have something to get through this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded. Gabriel brought over a cup, and Dean got the impression he was the sort who kept a pot constantly brewing. His suspicion was proven correct when he tasted it. It was bitter and burned but Dean drank it anyway. Gabriel sat down across from him, looking far away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our father...Chuck...he was always a dick,” Gabriel finally said. “You know the type...God hates everyone so you’d better do everything you can to please Him, and if you don’t you’ll be punished. When I was young, that usually meant by God...but then...our mother died, just after Balthazar was born. And Chuck...he changed. I mean...he was strict before that, but that’s when he decided to punish us instead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Castiel was six. We already knew he was...different. He asked too many questions...good questions, too. He reacted strongly to bright lights and loud noises...he didn’t act like other children. But Chuck didn’t believe in science or therapy...he called ministers...Castiel went through ten exorcisms by the time our mom died, and it’s not as harmless as they’d make you believe. And then...I guess there was no one to restrain him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw the scars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scars, yes...he kept Castiel isolated from the rest of us for days, even weeks at a time. Our older brothers...Raphael and Lucifer...they did anything Chuck told them. They joined in on hurting him. And then...when Castiel was twelve...somehow, Chuck found out that he was gay. And you can imagine what happens to a gay, autistic kid in that kind of home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing pretty, I bet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He shipped Castiel off to boarding school...one designed to ‘cure’ homosexuality. And autism. I don’t know what they did to him...I wasn’t there. But when I found out…” Gabriel shook his head. “The next time I saw him, Castiel was...broken. He didn’t speak...he didn’t do anything that Chuck didn’t tell him to. But that didn’t stop the abuse...he didn’t get out until he was grown, and then...well. I don’t like Meg as a person, but she did help him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stared straight ahead, forcing tears back. “So that’s why he’s so...scared of intimacy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty much.” Gabriel sighed. “Look...Castiel didn’t tell me what happened, but he’s...not good. And I don’t know if he’ll be ready to see you. But it’s good that you came...it’s nice that there’s someone besides Meg who cares about him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...thanks.” Dean swallowed. “Do you think he’ll come back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll have to ask him,” Gabriel said. “But I do know Claire needs him...and I think you do too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...yeah,” Dean said. “Yeah, I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re lonely,” Gabriel said. “Trust me, I know how that looks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just been a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel nodded. Dean finished the coffee and sat back a bit. “So...what now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you can either wait here until Castiel gets back, or you can go look for him. He usually hangs around the flower gardens when he’s upset.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Dean got up. “I’ll bring him back...and I already promised Meg...I won’t leave him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Gabriel smirked. “Meg and I don’t agree on much...but when we agree someone needs to be destroyed, you won’t escape.” He knocked back the last of his coffee. “So you think on that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nodded. “I’ll keep it in mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It turned out there were a lot of flower gardens in Saint Paul. Dean drove around, looking for any sign of Cas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally spotted Cas’s car at one of them. Dean parked behind and stepped out, walking down the path. It didn’t take long before he spotted Cas on a bench, staring straight ahead, looking calm but...lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean approached slowly and sat down next to him, not speaking. He wasn’t sure if Cas wanted to see him, and he didn’t want to scare him. Cas didn’t move at all, just stared ahead at a bee, flitting between the flowers in the twilight. Dean held out his hand, silent. After a moment, Cas took it, slow, almost hesitant. Dean started his circles, slowly, gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You came,” Cas said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I did,” Dean said. “You scared us, Cas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Cas whispered. “After last night...I thought you wouldn’t want me. And I knew that Claire would be better without me. So…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you ran.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the only thing I really know how to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas…” Dean sighed. “Last night...it was shit, okay? We both know that. But it’s not your fault. And...and it doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gabriel told me what happened to you. I can’t...I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t do anything,” Cas said. “Dean...what they did to me...it means I can’t...I might not ever be able to…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter,” Dean said. “I don’t just want to have sex with you...I mean...I do, but only if you want it too. But that’s not all I want. I want to go to softball games with you, and hold your hand through all of them. I want to fall asleep in your arms, every night. I want to raise our girls together...I want you to be part of my family. I want to have a life with you, and that doesn’t...that doesn’t have to mean anything physical.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re sure you want to live without that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it means I have you? Yeah. I want that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nodded. “I would like that,” he said. “I just...every time I think I’ve found something good...it’s always taken from me. I don’t want…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas, I’m not leaving you. And if anyone tries to take you from me, we’ll fight it. Together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas squeezed his eyes shut, clearly forcing back tears. “Why would you choose me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because...you’re the first person I’ve connected to since my divorce. And...even before that, I was always drifting. Always...looking for someone who I liked more than alcohol, or sex, or...anything, really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you been...empty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean blinked back his own tears. “Always,” he said. “My mom died when I was four...my dad...well. He wasn’t as bad as yours, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a competition, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No...no, you’re right. But my dad shouted at me...insulted me, and Sam, every day...he made me feel worthless. And when Bobby finally took us out of there, I believed it. So I just...gave up on being anything. I just threw my life away on alcohol and sex...trying to fill the void.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But then you had Emma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dean said. “I had Emma, and suddenly my life had meaning. And I tried to share it with Lisa...and couldn’t. She helped, but...I wasn’t enough for her, and...and she never took away that feeling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dean said. “Cas, the last three months with you...I’ve felt more alive than I ever had. You...you make me feel like I’m worth something. Like I can be a good man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a good man, Dean...one of the best men I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...I guess I’m trying to be even better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes...but that’s more than most people can say.” Cas scooted closer and leaned on him. “And it’s nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah...it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat there a long time, hands clasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go home,” Dean said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Cas said. “Home.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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